


Beauty and the Bird

by 1Black_Dragon



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn, lots of blood, the obligatory beauty and the beast fic, this has a mind of its own now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-01 10:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1Black_Dragon/pseuds/1Black_Dragon
Summary: Obligatory Beauty and the Beast ficAssassin turned barkeep Aelin bites off a little more than she can chew when she's sent across the ocean to hunt down her cousin Aedion for the crime of killing a prince. What started off as a quest to kill- then save- the last remaining member of her family, now turns into an adventure straight out of a fairy tale.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Origin stories? My one weakness.

_Once upon a time, in a kingdom long since lost to legend, there was born a fae prince. He was young and strong, and possessed a bitter, icy magic so powerful that it was said to have been gifted to him by the gods themselves. He was well-loved by all in the kingdom, and was set to inherit the throne as soon as he came of age._

 

_However, the young prince grew arrogant in his power. “Never before have I been beat!” He would boast, flaunting his magic for all to see. “There is surely none in this kingdom who can best me.”_

_He was right._

  
  
_The prince faced countless opponents in the name of the crown, claiming glory to his parents and to his kingdom. The true glory, however, was claimed by his hubris. He had never before tasted defeat, and his self-importance swelled to outrageous levels._

 

_He grew so confident in his strength that he began seeking out opponents to face him in combat, inciting conflict simply to stroke his ego. Many urged the royal family to put an end to their son’s warmongering then and there, but the king and queen refused. The young prince was their only son, and they denied him no pleasures._

 

_And so it went for a good number of years._

 

_When the prince’s coronation began to draw near, however, the pleas of the royal advisers and noble families grew ever more desperate. For as the prince grew and matured, so did his magic. If we was not leashed soon, he would never submit to the wills of others. Already, in the eyes of the people he was soon to rule, he had become a dangerous menace, more likely to bring war than peace. Where he and his companions rode, fear followed them like a noxious cloud._

 

_When his parents finally chose to heed the warnings of their subjects, however, it was too late to summon their errant son home. The prince had finally grown bored of ‘mortal’ opponents, and had turned his gaze to far more formidable threats. For the prince had learned of a deep wood that was secluded in the very heart of the kingdom, and of the dark secrets that it guarded._

 

_The last of the ancient fae queens who built his very kingdom was said to slumber in that forest, and to guard her, dozens of immortal warriors from countless ages past._

 

_And in the prince’s mind, what better opponent for an invincible prince was there than an immortal warrior? And what better way to prove his prowess to the kingdom than to woo and marry a beautiful queen with powers that would surely almost match his own?_

 

_It was a foolproof plan...... Or so the young prince thought._

 

_For when he and several of his closest companions arrived in the heart of the fae queen’s forest, they found it empty. No matter how thoroughly they searched every glen and niche of the woods, the fae queen and her army were nowhere to be seen._

 

_Overcome with embarrassment and rage, the prince refused to leave the woods without a trophy to present for his troubles._

 

_In the end, he rode home with the corpse of a single, moon-white barn owl, the symbol of the queens of old._

 

_Consumed by his shame and anger as he was, the young prince did not notice the blackness that consumed the stars above him. It followed the young prince all the way home._

 

_No fanfare heralded his arrival in the capital. There was no parade to welcome the young prince and his brave companions home. In fact, it seemed that there was nobody left to celebrate at all._

 

_I_ _n ominous silence, the group made their way back to the throne room of the king and queen, anxiety mounting with each step._

 

_They arrived to find seats of the monarchy were gone. Replaced, instead, by a throne woven of bone-white antlers. Draped across the throne was a creature of cobwebs and obsidian. The forest had not been quite so empty after all, for it was unquestionably a queen that now lounged in the throne room._

 

_A queen whom had been gravely slighted._

 

_The fae of old bore two forms, whereas the prince’s generation remembered only one. Mastery of both beast and humanoid skins was the claim of those ancient ancestors, and the barn owl which the young prince still carried had been one such ancestor._

 

_In fact, it was the fae queen’s lover which dangled lifelessly from the young male’s hands._

 

_In retribution for her lost lover, she bespelled the prince into a beastly body that she found befitting his true nature. His companions, though not directly guilty of crime, were cursed as well, their bodies bent into the forms of the beast-selves that their kind had long forgotten._

 

_And what of the prince’s kingdom you ask? The grief-stricken queen razed it and all the people in it to the ground. She left the foolish prince and his companions with a prophecy, and vanished back into the dark woods from whence she came._

 

_“A beast you were at heart, and a beast you are now in form. By love you are bound to me, and by love you may be freed. Only when the selfless love of another reaches your monstrous heart will the life debt owed to me be paid-.”_

 

⯎ 

Aelin Galathynius slammed the book shut with a disdainful sniff, and thunked it down on the table beside her chair. Curses, queens and true love. How cliche.

 

“Don’t you have anything more.... dastardly?” Aelin asked, wiggling her brows hopefully at the shop worker.

 

The stout older man shrugged and flashed the young woman an apologetic smile. “Nothing that you haven’t already read, miss. I’m afraid we’re running out of new materials for you. People in this town aren’t much for reading.”

 

Aelin sagged slightly and blew a small raspberry. “It was worth a shot.” She said mournfully, and heaved herself out of the plush chair. “Thank you for your time today, Vern, as always.”

 

The bookkeeper, Vern, smiled at her again. “And as always, you’re welcome to come back anytime. You’re about the only company me and these dusty books will get in this village.”

 

“I’ll be sure to stop by soon.” Aelin assured, a grin spreading across her face. “But for now, I have a shift to catch.”

 

And with those parting words, she breezed out of the shop and into the crowded morning market.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam,,, im sorry i have no idea how to write you into this thing... so im not gonna  
> you deserve better you sweet sunshine child you  
> may you fly free and rip

Arobynn had sent her to this miserable town. Had briefed her on the mission personally, and had probably enjoyed watching her shred herself to pieces over it.

He had called her to his office shortly after dinner, claiming to have a new client for her to meet with. But when she arrived and took her customary seat across from him, Aelin found the room devoid of new faces.  
  
Her master, the King of Assassins sat alone in an ornate chair and sent her a a lazy grin.

“Aelin,” He had purred, his silver eyes glinting dangerously from underneath blood-red bangs. Aelin had stiffened in the seat across from her master at the sound of her birth given name. He seldom used it, save to ruffle her metaphorical feathers.

“Master.” She responded coldly, not wanting to give him the victory of a reaction.

Arobynn’s eyes gleamed, and he leaned back in his chair, a wounded smile playing across his thin lips. “So brusque today, darling. Can’t you spare even a moment for niceties?”

  
Aelin only raised her eyebrows.

  
“Touchy touchy,” her master murmured, shuffling the papers on the desk. “But fine, have it your way.” He swiftly pulled a sheet from underneath the stack and handed it to Aelin, face down.

“This comes from high up.” Arobynn said softly, his fingers still gripping the back end of the paper. “And we’re in no position to refuse. The client is wealthy and influential, and furthermore- I owe him a debt. Your assignment is non-negotiable.”

Aelin’s grip on the memo tightened, and she tightened her lips. For Arobynn to call for a personal briefing was odd in and of itself. But for Arobynn to admit that he was backed into a corner was nearly unheard of. This unnamed client must be wealthy indeed.

She pulled the paper from between her master’s fingers, and flipped it over in front of her, mentally running through the list of possible high-risk targets that she might find on the other side of the parchment.

_‘For the murder and delivery of one General Aedion Ashryver-’_

Aelin stopped breathing around the same time she stopped reading.

“No.” She said hoarsely, her hands shaking. “No. No, _no_.”

“Non-negotiable,” Arobynn murmured quietly, watching her like a hawk.

Aelin couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t breathe. Aedion. Aedion alive and well. Aedion, a general. Aedion, her _target_. Aedion her _cousin_ \- the last remnant of her broken kingdom. “Find someone else.” Aelin whispered, her voice a strangled hiss. “I won’t do it.”

“You don’t have a choice.” Arobynn said bluntly. Aelin went numb with rage. “You don’t get to decide that.” She rasped, a dormant fire flickering to life within her soul.

“Keep reading.” Her master said silkily, and began cleaning his nails with a dagger he had procured from seemingly nowhere. Still flickering, Aelin obliged.

The promised sum was astronomical. Enough to pay for guild expenses for nearly three years, if Arobynn’s current statements were correct. “Price still doesn’t justify the murder-” Aelin began.

Arobynn plucked the parchment from her bloodless hands and laid it down on the table, a bejeweled finger hovering above the name of the client. “I can’t refuse.”

Aelin lost her breath for the second time then. For underneath Arobynn’s finger was the royal seal. And beneath that onyx wyvern, was the signature of his royal majesty, King Haviliard of Adarlan.

  
“General.... General to whom?” Aelin asked, a sick feeling taking root in her chest.

“Who do you think?” Arobynn replied, his eyes never leaving her face. “Last I checked there was only one ruling family worth serving here in Adarlan.”

She let the jab pass. “I won’t do it.”

“You have no choice.” Arobynn said again, a frown creasing his face. “This comes directly from the crown. If I refuse, it means a bounty on the heads of me and mine. You’re included on that list, mind you.”

Silence.

“He’s a traitor both to you and the King now,” Arobynn said gently. Aelin didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him.

“Aedion is _family_.” Her voice was a broken whisper. “He’s all I have left.”

“He’s a broken husk.” Arobynn said, a hint of ice creeping into his voice. “He killed the King’s youngest son in cold blood. He’s a murderer.”

A murderer who shared her blood. That was fine. Aelin’s hands weren’t anywhere near clean either.... But for her cousin to kill a _child_..... Maybe the king really had broken him. Even revenge had its limits.

She would see and decide for herself. If he was as twisted as it seemed, Aelin would end it with her own two hands. It was the very least she could do. If, however, Arobynn was _wrong_....  Well, Aelin would cross that bridge when she reached it.

“Fine.” Aelin said, her heart retreating back into the cold shell from whence it had come. “ _Fine_.” She repeated. “I’ll take it.”

Arobynn nodded. “Better you than anyone else-”

“Shut up.”

He did, and she signed the damning contract with shaking hands.

  
  
⯎

 

Aedion had hidden himself well.  
  
Arobynn’s instructions had sent Aelin across the ocean to the long-since abandoned kingdom of Wendlyn. The King’s former general was said to have fled to its shores after he had killed Prince Hollin.

In Aelin’s opinion, he couldn’t have chosen a better refuge. With the fae who once ruled the land long gone, Adarlan had claimed the territory for itself, sinking its greedy, ever hungry maw into the unclaimed land. However, much to the King’s chagrin, his removal of magic did not seem to reach those distant shores. This made Wendlyn a haven for suspected magic users and others who had reason to fear the King. If Aedion retained even a fraction of the charm he’d possessed as a child, he’d have no trouble blending in at all.

This accidental leniency didn’t make the colonies paradise, however. Not by a long shot. As long as they did not openly practice, the King could not accuse them of magic. What he could and did do, however, was flood the towns and cities that sprung up across the land with an outrageous number of guards. This had nowhere near the same effect as his banishment on magic on the mainland did, but it seemed to quell open practice.

Not that there were many magic users remaining after the initial purge anyways. The memory of those first few months after the disappearance of magic was plenty enough to keep the few gifted people that remained quiet.

Following rumors and whispers of Aedion’s flight, Aelin snaked her way through the various cities and towns of the newly dubbed territory of Erith. The most recent news had come from her current hideout in the town of Yarrin- a small, inconsequential village at the very edge of Erith’s borders.

Once she reached Yarrin, however, the news stopped. It was maddening. All clues and leads pointed to the tiny village being Aedion’s last known location, but the town itself was depressingly devoid of any and all information regarding her cousin.

Aelin lasted about two weeks without any new leads before she took matters into her own hands and insinuated herself into the local population.

Horrifically small as Yarrin was, Aelin had found that travelers and traders from all corners of Erith passed through its streets. This meant good business for the local tavern, which provided Aelin with a perfect opportunity for surveillance.

And so Lillian, the daughter of a well to-do Rifthold merchant was born. With a few honeyed words and a few shakes of her relatively heavy coin purse, Aelin managed to secure herself a position as a barmaid at the Eagle’s Head tavern.

So she stayed at the tavern, refilling glasses and encouraging loose tongues as days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. It was half a year now since Arobynn had cornered her after dinner, and every extra day spent in Yarrin felt like an eternity in and of itself.

Aelin immediately regretted leaving the small book store as she threaded her way through the crowded town square towards the tavern. Though there were plenty of interesting baubles and trinkets flashing on the market tables that caught her interest, Aelin had bigger fish to fry.

The market only came to town once a month, and with it, a veritable treasure trove of gossip. Though her shift would undoubtedly be long and grueling, any trace of Aedion would make all the months of work worth it.

The smell of unwashed men assaulted her nostrils as she pushed open the tavern doors and strode towards the bar, snagging her apron from a hanger as she went.

“What’s the damage?” Aelin asked, deftly snagging a bottle from the shaking hands of her coworker, Etta.

“Awful.” The other woman grumbled, running a hand through the unruly mop of brown hair that she called her own. “They came in before the last of yesterday’s night crowd had paid their bills, and haven’t stopped drinking since.”

Aelin whistled sympathetically.

“Tell me you’re here to start your shift and not to drink.” The look in Etta’s eyes was desperate.

“I’m here to start my shift.” Aelin assured, deftly tying her apron around her waist. “Just give me a second to tie up my hair.”

Etta heaved a sigh of relief and affirmation and turned her attention back to the bar as Aelin bunched her blonde tresses up into a messy knot. Today was the day. She decided. Today _for sure_ was the day she’d pick up some rumor or confirmation of Aedion’s existence.

_If I don’t hear anything today,_ Aelin decided, plastering a fake smile across her face, _I’ll eat my own apron._

And with that, Aelin turned to face the ungodly amount of morning drinkers that had piled up at the bar. It was already promising to be a _very_ , very long shift.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beep beep here comes the update train  
> drink responsibly, kids.

It seemed like Aelin wouldn’t have to eat her apron after all.

Her shift had begun like any other, and the names of patrons and drinks alike blurred together as the hours passed. New faces, old faces and faces so nondescript that they faded from memory almost immediately passed through the tavern, and Aelin did tried her damnedest to ply all of them for information.

As the sun began to sink lower in the skies, the general commotion died down and Aelin found time to interrogate customers individually.

Her current victim was a young man, surely not much older than Aelin herself. He'd started drinking a while ago, if his slurring was any indication.

“Tttthhha’ General?”

Aelin nodded at the drunkard and fluttered her eyelashes. “General Ashryver,” She said, leaning slightly closer. Gods above, the man _reeked_ , “I heard he passed through Yarrin not too long ago.”

“You heard wrong,” the man slurred, peering up at Aelin from under heavy eyelids. “General’snt been in this bar in foo _reeever_.”

Aelin paused in the middle of refilling the man’s drink.

“So he's been here _?_ ”  
  
She knew she’d made a mistake as soon as the words had left her mouth. In her surprise, she’d spoken too quickly. Aelin just hoped that the man was too deep in his cups to pay her questioning any mind.

She had no such luck.

The not-as-drunk-as-she-thought-drunk stiffened slightly, and glared at Aelin, as if reassessing her. A hint of suspicion entered his watery blue eyes. “Maybe.” He said, his voice taking on a decidedly unfriendly tone. “Maybe not. Not’ht I would know.”

Aelin forced herself to relax, to give an uncaring shrug. “It’s a confusing rumor.” She said, topping up the man’s glass with a grin. “I don’t blame you for not knowing,” Aelin continued, weaving a tapestry of believable falsehoods, “From what I’ve heard, he’s here in Yarrin, down in the capital, over in Westport _and_ having a good laugh with the King back in Rifthold all at once.”

It was all a lie, of course, but the drunkard didn’t need to know that. In truth, Aelin hadn’t the foggiest clue of where her cousin had holed up.

The man’s glare softened slightly as she pushed his glass towards him. His lips stayed shut though. _Damn_. She'd have to try a different tactic.

“What’s your name?” Aelin asked, leaning towards him again. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.” This was true, at least. The man’s features rang no bell in Aelin’s memory. “Are you here with the market traders?”

“M’names Gale. And yeah, I came here with the market.” The man, _Gale_ , said, swirling the liquid around in his glass. “I guard.”

A guard. _Fascinating_.

Aelin widened her eyes in feigned alarm. “Guard? There aren’t any bandits in the area are there?”

Gale wheezed out a laugh. “ _They_ don’t know that,” he said, motioning out past the doors of the tavern. “S’good pay for less work. Much better’n down by the capital. Lots’a thiefs there. Magic, too.”

Aelin nodded along. “Yarrin is a pretty peaceful town.” She said agreeably.

“Y’got that right.” Gale said pleasantly, his earlier suspicion seemingly forgotten. “No trouble here. No bandits, no sorcerers... Nothing.” The guard made a swishing motion as he spoke, almost spilling his drink in his enthusiasm.

“Where in Erith are you from?” Aelin asked, leaning on her elbows. “I’m not too good at picking out accents yet.” She grinned sheepishly, allowing a small flush to grace her cheeks. Would Gale take the bait?

He would. “I’m not from here,” he said with a proud smile. “I’m Rifthold born and bred. Th’ King sent me here with the guard. I’m s’posed to watch for _magic_.” Here, Gale dropped his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “His majesty don’ need to know about the side jobs, though. People pay a pretty coin for a royal guard”

“I’m sure they do.” The assassin murmured, halfway tuning his slurs out. She had to get the topic back to Aedion somehow without arousing the suspicion of the guard. Gale had something to hide, she was sure of it. He’d clammed up too quickly at the mention of the general.

“If there aren’t any bandits here, why did the market hire you? The road to Yarrin is peaceful, if the local travelers are telling the truth.” Aelin interjected, cutting off Gale’s Drunken Perks of Being a Royal Guard schpiel. It was clearly a drafted and oft practiced speech, given Gale’s offended huff at the interruption.

“There used to be bandits. Thieves and such who lived here before Adarlan. Nasty business, that. Whole towns of pickpockets and killers just waiting for innocent travelers to pass by. And the market? No thief would pass up an opportunity to rob it.”

The trained thief and killer at the bar chose not to comment. Instead, Aelin raised her eyebrows and looked to Gale’s glass in wordless question. The guard nodded absentmindedly, and Aelin poured him another cup. Like a fool, Gale happily accepted whatever she gave him. She’d have to cut him off soon, if she wanted to keep him conscious. His liver would thank her if she did... Probably.  
  
“What changed then? Whole towns of ruffians don’t just disappear out of the blue, right?”

She’d hit the jackpot with that question. Whether Gale had deemed her harmless or was just too drunk to care- she suspected the latter, of course- his tongue had finally loosened. “The general.” He said proudly, his chest swelling infinitesimally out his chest. “He came and got rid of them all.”

A glimmer of pride rose in Aelin’s chest, only to be quickly snuffed. Focus, she hissed to herself, don’t get distracted now. Gale was still talking.

“-Promised to keep the bandits away.” He finished smugly. Aelin blinked. Shit. She’d missed something important.

“Just like that?” Her expression of interest wasn’t completely fake. Aedion must have been either very desperate or very clever to have bargained with or driven away a veritable army of ruffians. As a tried and true ruffian herself, Aelin couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“Just like that.” Gale confirmed, nodding. “And Yarrin’s roads haven’t seen a bandit since.”

“I can’t believe the bandits kept their word,” Aelin said in honest surprise. _She_ sure as hell wouldn’t have. “You’re sure no one’s been attacked?”

“M’ssure.” Gale slurred. “Aedion’s been keeping an eye on them. Him’n his who _oole_ garrison. Me too,” He added conspiratorially.

Ding ding! Winner! She’d done it! Aelin was taking home the metaphorical gold. Still quietly celebrating her victory, she made a point of looking around, and then leaned in towards Gale, her voice hushed. “But he’s in hiding isn’t he? From the King?”

“We keep him safe.” Gale said stoutly, thumping his chest. “S’agood guy. Keeps his word.”

We. Soldier. Rifthold. Piece by piece, Aelin stitched together the stories. Back on the main continent, Gale had obviously served under Aedion in some shape or form. Her cousin had earned his loyalty in one way or another, and when Aedion fled, it seemed like many of his soldiers went with him, under the guise of securing Erith.

It wasn’t a total lie, though. From what Aelin could tell, Gale and the soldiers seemed to be doing a spectacular job of shielding both Aedion and Erith at the same time. Cheeky buggers.

“So he’s here?”

“He’s here. Somewhere.” Gale confirmed haphazardly, swinging his liquor around. “Needs’ta make sure the villagers keep their word y’know? Can’t have them blabbing.”

That made sense. Shielding the village and its roads in exchange for silence and safety? Clever boy. It also explained the jarring lack of gossip in town. Aelin had heard all she needed.

“You should probably have some water,” Aelin said, shooting a pitying look at Gale. She’d gotten him thoroughly wasted, and if he kept going, he was likely to give himself alcohol poisoning. Gale nodded agreeably. “Water’s good. S’good.”

As Aelin slid the soldier his final glass for the day, she found herself nursing the quiet and pathetic hope that Gale hadn’t unwittingly led his beloved commander straight to his own death. It would be a sorry reimbursement for Aedion’s death, if it came down to it, but Aelin decided to pay off his hefty bar tab with money from her own purse.

It was a shitty thanks, and both Aelin and her conscience knew it, but it at least it was something.

She finished out her shift with an irritating lump of guilt in her gut.


	4. Chapter 4

Aelin was good at waiting.

She’d waited half a year now for word of Aedion, and -if it had come to it- would have waited half a year longer. Would have waited _forever._

Aelin didn’t want to admit it, but she’d probably been waiting for Aedion before she even knew he still lived. She’d never stopped to consider it, but she supposed that she’d somehow known he was alive all along. They had been close as siblings when they were younger, and some part of that childhood bond most likely still lived on between them. After all, Aelin and Aedion were two sides of the same whole. Two sides of the same coin, as it were. Bonds like that didn’t disappear overnight.

She could practically _feel_ his presence now that she’d all but confirmed his proximity in regards to Yarrin.

His exact location, however, remained unknown- much to Aelin’s chagrin. The young woman had plied her charms on every soldier that passed through the Eagle’s Head, and had turned up empty handed at the end of every shift so far.

From what she’d managed to weasel out of Gale, Aedion was definitely in the area. Not in town, or Aelin would have noticed him long ago, but somewhere close. The villagers remained mum about anything and everything regarding her golden-haired cousin, which meant that they were either extremely loyal or extremely afraid.

From what she’d heard of the man, it was likely a combination of both.

He’d become a good general, Aedion had.

It was a damn shame that he had to die.

-

They’d often played the waiting game as children, despite being abysmal at anything and everything involving patience. Why they did it? It was a competition, of course. Children loved competitions, and this pair of cousins had been no different. Aelin often won. Whether this was due to Aelin’s own stubbornness or a soft spot on Aedion’s end, she’d never known. Aelin’s pride liked to believe that it was the former.

How ironic that they again found themselves playing the waiting game as adults.

For it _was_ the waiting game they played, whether Aedion knew it or not.

It was only a matter of time before he played his hand- he had to, eventually. The bandits weren’t keeping themselves away after all.

So Aelin kept her patience and watched, and picked up as many shifts at the tavern as she could without arousing suspicion. Gossip flowed best from inebriated lips, or so she’d found.

-

The tavern had been woefully quiet ever since the market had left. The villagers, it seemed, had spent a little too much money on the proffered wares, and had few coins to spare for ale and spirits. This made for wonderfully dull shifts.

After two wasted days behind the bar, Aelin found herself desperately wishing for a traveler or two to break the monotonous routine. Asides from the continuous presence of the local town drunkards, nary a soul had set foot into the Eagle’s Head as of late.

This, the eve of the third day, was shaping up to be just as miserable as the two before it. Aelin stood behind the bar, sullenly polishing a glass as she glared at the sorry-looking men who occupied the table in the far corner. They’d occupied that very same table for almost ever night that Aelin had worked, and, if her co-workers were to be believed, every night that she didn’t work as well. How they managed to drink so much and still have money left over was a mystery.

Aelin’s scowl deepened. Their drink-slurred chatter had ceased being a distraction and had begun edging into the dangerous territory of nuisance several hours ago.

The Eagle’s Head had begun feeling unbearably small lately, and it wasn’t just the monotonous atmosphere or the less-than desirable company that was to blame. No, Aelin thought, her frown becoming thunderous. The culprit of her discomfort lay smoldering within her breast like a half-forgotten ember.   
  
Aelin could ignore it at first- _had_ been ignoring it (or the lack of it, rather) for years- but what had started off as an itch had grown steadily into a pulsing ache beneath her skin.   
  
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not really. Magic hadn’t always been banned in Adarlan, and Aelin had known what prowled beneath her skin before she’d been able to walk. Once magic had fallen, and her home had- _well_ , once magic had fallen, living without the constant sparks at her fingers had become second nature. But crossing over the ocean-crossing over that invisible _line_ Adarlan had drawn- it had been like loosing a breath that Aelin hadn’t even known she’d been holding.

The world wasn’t the same as it had been back when Aelin was still a child, however, and where her gifts had once elicited praise and applause, fear and disgust dawned instead. Even here in the relatively tolerant confines of Erith. Besides, her flames would tell a truth that neither she nor the world were really ready to face.

So Aelin had no choice but to keep herself under tight lock and key as she burned away within the confines of the Eagle’s Head. She’d lived without magic for almost as long as she could remember. Aelin could endure. She’d have to endure. Even if the damning power in her blood sang to her to _l_ e _t go_. To _rage_ -

No.

One day at a time. One hour, one minute. She would make it through this. Find Aedion, and get out one way or another. Escape. Survive. _Burn_.

But, as Aelin wiped down the bar for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, a small, wretched part of her wondered if this was one round of the waiting game she’d be forced to concede- if the mounting pressure under her skin would force her to relent before Aedion showed his hand.

The merciful chime of the entry bell kept the rag in her hand from smoldering into ashes.

Salvation for the polishing cloth came in the form of a tall hooded stranger. Aelin swallowed a growl of annoyance as she tried and failed to pick out any features from underneath that heavy cowl. A strong jaw and generous mouth was all that she’d been able to see. Fine. There was more than one way to skin a cat, after all.

The assassin turned her gaze towards his garments instead. The cloak was well made despite its simplicity. In a small town like Yarrin, wool was hard to come by. Expensive, even. Not a local then. And from the looks of the sodden boots that were currently soiling Aelin’s polished floor, her new customer was accustomed to hard travel. A merchant or mercenary perhaps?

The rapidly accumulating puddle beneath those boots spoke multitudes as well. The stranger had obviously been on the move for a while, if his cloak and boots were sodden all the way through. Aelin hadn’t even noticed the rain, preoccupied as she’d been with.... Other matters.

“Well met!,” Aelin called out, a not entirely forced smile finding its way upon her face. Entertainment. Finally. “The Eagle’s Head bids you welcome, stranger.”

The cloaked figure raised a weary hand in acknowledgment. The movement sent light dancing along the daggers strapped around a thick, well-muscled waist, and Aelin started slightly. Not a merchant, then. “Can I get anything started for you? An ale, or perhaps a spiced cider?” Aelin hoped they’d bite for ale. Loose tongues and all that.

“I’ll take a cider.” The man- for it was unmistakably a male voice that came from underneath that heavy hood- said. Biting back disappointment, Aelin busied herself behind the bar. She’d ply him for drinks later. Any assassin worth their spit could gather information without the aid of alcohol. Aelin was no exception. Arobynn’s training had assured that.

Heavy, exhausted steps marked the stranger’s path to the bar stools, and Aelin resisted the urge to turn around and _look_ as a whisper of fabric against wood told her that he’d seated himself. But Aelin’s training held firm against her curiosity, and she finished warming the man’s beverage before she allowed herself to turn towards her customer.

And slide him his drink.

Aedion had grown tall these past few years.   
  
He’d also grown a beard. It suited him.

“Thank you.” Her cousin murmured, his massive hands closing around the wooden mug. So many calluses. So many scars. Aelin’s heart thundered in her ears. He hadn’t looked up yet. Hadn’t noticed the one feature that would damn Aelin’s disguise to hell.

Her eyes. _Their_ eyes. Turquoise ringed gold. Nowhere else in the world would Aelin find another set twin to hers. It marked them as the last of a dying breed. A _slaughtered_ breed. Aelin’s throat bobbed. _Aedion._

Those eyes flashed as Aedion hesitated before raising the mug to his lips, forgotten manners showing themselves in the crinkles at the corner of his lips. “Well met.” He finally returned, and slid his eyes back down towards his drink.

The base instincts of an assassin nodded in approval within Aelin’s floundering mind. Aedion knew the dangers of showing his face. His eyes. Their eyes, _Ashry_ -

Sparks burst from Aelin’s fingers, scattering behind her back like fireflies. Smoke curled in her mouth. Damn Arobynn to hell. Damn the King to hell. Damn them all.

Aedion would not die by her hand. Not by her hand nor any other, if Aelin could help it. Murderer or no. It didn’t matter. Innocent blood coated her hands, too. She wouldn’t - _couldn’t_ \- add the blood of her cousin to them.

It was with the taste of ash and death on her tongue that Aelin forced a smile to her face and greeted her long lost cousin.

“Well met indeed, Aedion.”

And with those words, Aelin won this round of the waiting game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since sam is,, not here, Aelin doesn't go to endovier cuz of him  
> she still went tho  
> Probably cuz of Arobynn. Definitely cuz of Arobynn. Why?  
> I'll figure it out.  
> I promise.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit carried away
> 
> Valg are a thing here.
> 
> Not as prevalent, but still a thing.   
> More of an experiment, i guess.  
> Hollin was the guinea pig.   
> rip   
> also i would die for aedion ashryver

Aedion choked on his cider. Choked- and then reached for the myriad of weapons at his waist.   
  
Aelin grabbed his hand before he he could loose a single blade. “Aedion,” she said softly, her voice pitched for his ears only. “ _Cousin_.”

The general started violently, and though he kept his eyes downwards, Aelin saw the color leech out of his face. From where she had stilled his fingers, a mighty trembling started.

Oh _Aedion_. Aelin’s lower lip wobbled slightly.

“Hey,” She said softly, her hand relinquishing its grip on his wrist. “It’s.. It’s all right. It’s just me. Just Aelin.”

The words weren’t for him alone, though. Aelin needed them too.

They stayed silent for a while, the only noise being the revels of the drunkards in the background.

“ _Just_ Aelin,” Aedion said hoarsely, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. “How can you say you’re _just Aelin_. After all these years--- you’re _alive_ , and you’re _just Aelin??_ ”

“I could probably come up with a few more titles if you’d like,” just Aelin replied, a hesitant smile creeping onto her face. Aedion loosed a shaky breath. “No,” he said, rubbing a hand across his face. “Your ego is big enough as it is.”

And just like that, he was back.

It was an effort for Aelin not to burst into tears right then and there. “I missed you.” She said thickly, the polishing rag gripped tightly in her hands. “I missed you and your stupid face.” Aedion made a curious choking noise. “Well,” he shot back, “I missed your stupid face _more_.”  
  
“Well I missed your stupid face _most_.” Aelin said, snapping the rag onto the bar with finality. She was doing a very good job at ignoring the stinging in her eyes. “I didn’t miss how tall you are, though.” A lie, but a humorous one. Aelin missed all of him. “You were tall enough before.”

Aedion shrugged into his cider, and flashed her a grin over the rim of his mug. It helped ease the terrible darkness that had been brewing in his eyes “I had to be better at you than something.”

 _We both seem to be damn good at not dying_ , Aelin wanted to say, but the tentative happiness on Aedion’s face made her think twice about it. Too soon for morbid jokes, it seemed. Instead she opted for a simple “Growing doesn’t count.”

Her cousin shrugged again. _It definitely does_ , the slopes of his shoulders seemed to say. And damn if he wasn’t right. Aedion had always been taller than her, even when they were children. Before.. Before the King had happened, Aelin had been eye level with his chin. Now? She’d be lucky if she came up to his collarbone. He was _massive._

 _What had the King’s army been feeding him?_ Aelin wondered, and stopped up short. Ah. The King. _Right._

She opened her mouth to speak, but Aedion held up a weary hand. “I know that look,” he said quietly, and sent her a beseeching glance. “Just.... Let me finish my cider. Please?”

Aelin did. She had nothing _but_ time now, after all.

Some time later, Aedion thunked the mug down on the table and crossed his arms. “Question for a question?” He offered, and Aelin nodded. It was only fair that he got to ask his share as well.

He motioned for her to begin.

“The King?”

Aedion’s face tightened, and it broke Aelin’s heart to see the shadows gather once more in his eyes.

“The King,” he said softly, an undertone of venom sliding into his voice. “The King.” He repeated, his fists clenching. “Well. You know where that one began.”

Yes. Aelin knew where Aedion’s tale started. She knew all too well.

\---------

“I was away when the news of Orl-” A quick glance in Aelin’s direction informed her that Aedion was very well aware of her discomfort with that particular piece of the past, and was purposefully skirting the details for Aelin’s sake. “When the news of the fall of magic reached me. I should have ridden back right then and there. I wanted to. Wyrd only knows how badly I wanted to- But by the time I found out, it was already too late. I could have gotten away. Should have run, but I was only fourteen then. Fourteen and _angry_. I didn’t know any better.”

\--------

A young Aedion kneels at the feet of a dark king, tears and snot and blood streaking down his face. He is furious and terrified.

He is _alone_.

“A survivor?” The dark haired man asks, lifting the young boy’s smudged face with an armored finger. The smell of death and dirt and _wrong_ invades Aedion’s nostrils, and he shies away from the icy touch with a wounded snarl.

The King of Adarlan raises an eyebrow, but removes his hand all the same.

“We found him in the throne room, sire.” A soldier says, his helm concealing his face. “It seems as though he was able to hold his own against some of the troops we sent through.” No emotions color the man’s voice, and his grip on the back of Aedion’s shirt is of iron.

He’d killed four of them before one of the soldiers had managed to catch Aedion off guard. The boy’s memory of the encounter is fuzzy. There is a vague memory of blood and a white stone floor, but the rest fades into blackness.

The air smells of ashes and burnt flesh.

“Impressive,” The King says, and eyes Aedion with newfound interest. Aedion spits at his feet and hates with more passion than he’s ever hated before. _Can’t he smell the death?_  
  
Seemingly unbothered, the ruler of Adarlan waves a dismissive hand. Dismisses him, dismisses Aelin, dismisses all of it. Aedion wants to rip the man’s throat out, and then maybe rip out his own for failing everyone.

“Shall I dispose of him, your grace?” The soldiers asks, his grip on Aedion tightening slightly. The scent of anticipation oozes off the man, and Aedion fights the urge to retch. All this death, and they still craved _more._  
  
Fine, then. Aedion deserves to die. He knows this. Maybe he’ll get to apologize to Aelin in the afterlife. To Orlon, to Rhoe and Evalin. To all of them. He spits at the King again, just because he can. One last act of rebellion.

“No.” The King says, then , and Aedion’s shattered heart nearly stops. _No?_ A terrible smile spreads across the King’s icy face and chills Aedion to the core. “I want him alive. He comes with us”

The boy only has time to widen his eyes in terror before he is given a crack to the back of his head, and the world fades into blissful darkness again.

\------

Aedion is fifteen and wants to die. Wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything before.

He is to fight in the King’s army. To subdue rebels. His own people.   
  
Aedion would rather choke to death on his own blood first.

The first time the commander of his troop hands Aedion a blade, the young man seriously debates running himself through with it.   
  
He doesn’t.

What he does do, however, is take a vicious swing at the commander. He manages to draw blood before his face is slammed down into the dirt.

\-------

He is seventeen now, and has some skill with a blade. Aedion has learned to hone his rage outwards, and he wears his anger like a coat of armor. He has killed innocents.

He lives to kill the King, and for nothing else.

If he does, maybe Aedion will be able to face Aelin in the afterlife.  
  
\--------

Somewhere around his eighteenth birthday and his seventieth kill, Aedion is summoned to Rifthold to face the King. He is older now, and not quite so broken.

The glass castle smells of blood and decay.

“You’ve done well Aedion,” The King says, smiling down from atop his glittering throne. Aedion, kneeling at his feet, only just barely resists the impulse to spit at his feet. He keeps his face calm. “I almost find myself forgetting that you’re the son of my enemy, with how easily you dispose of rebel sympathizers.”

Aedion stays quiet.

King Haviliard’s smile grows positively serpentine. “In fact, I think you’ve proven yourself worthy of a true position in my army. Rise, and face your King.”

With knees that creak in protest, Aedion obeys. Forces himself to look at the murderer of his people with clear eyes. He lives to kill the king. To do so, he has realized, he needs nothing short of an army. “Sire,” he says calmly, “It would be an _honor_ to serve.”  
  
\---------

Aedion throws the obsidian ring into the ocean. It smells like him.

He has seen his fellow commanders with them, however. Has seen the kind of men they become once they slide the ring onto their fingers. The King will expect him to wear it and to act the same.

That’s fine. If there’s anything Aedion has learned over the past four years, its how to act convincingly. Crafting a replacement will be easy. He can handle the ring.

The present that came with it, however, will be another matter in and of itself. The sword of Orynth- his uncle’s sword. One of the only remaining heirlooms of a destroyed kingdom. _His_ kingdom.

For him to wield it in the King’s name would be the same as dancing on the graves of his kin. Dancing and drinking. Drinking and singing a dirty sea shanty as he danced. _Despicable._

But Aedion is already despicable, as far as he is concerned. He’ll just have to do some more groveling in the underworld.

Until that day comes,  Aedion will remain the King’s puppet.

\------------

  
Nineteen and twenty pass by in a blur. Aedion is vicious and strong, and tears through foes and rank alike. The Wolf of the North, they call him. One of the King’s most loyal generals. He commands his own legion now, and occupies a territory not too far from the salt mines of Endovier.

His people work that mine, back to back with criminals and war prisoners from other countries. Despite all his men, despite his reputation, when it comes to those prisoners, Aedion is _helpless_.

\----------

He is twenty three, and is better known as the Whore of Adarlan.

It is an easy mask to wear, Aedion finds. It is easier, far far easier to bed and drink his way through the streets of Rifthold than to slaughter what little is left of his people on their home turf. (Never his home, not anymore. Not after what he’s done.)   
  
The ring sits heavy on his finger when he bows his head to the King. _Soon_ , he promises himself as false words pour off his tongue like honey. _Soon_.

He is respected and well-liked among his men. They would follow him to the ends of the earth, he knows this. But would they follow him to kill a king?

\---------

Aedion walks the thin line between twenty three and twenty four when he first meets Prince Hollin.

The other prince, Dorian Havilliard is well known to Aedion. He’d even met him once, before everything had gone to shit. Hollin, on the other hand, was a new addition to the Adarlanian royal family.

Beyond their titles, however, the two princes could not be more different. Aedion knows Dorian to be a womanizer and a bit of a priss. However, from what he can tell, an honest man seems to lurk underneath that royal exterior. Hollin, on the other hand..... Something had gone very wrong with Hollin.

Eight years old and he was already a feared menace throughout the castle. Most ignored the odd behavior. The child was simply a spoiled brat, nothing more. Aedion had readily agreed, happy to dismiss the royal family in any way that he could.  
  
He’d been forced to change his opinion, however, when he met the child face to face.

Hollin had decided to sit in on one of his father’s meetings with Aedion. This in and of itself wasn’t so very strange. Aedion had seen Dorian drop in more than a few times, and it certainly wasn’t unusual for children to take interest in the arts of war.

No, what truly changed the way Aedion viewed Hollin was the reek of _wrongness_ that emanated from the child’s body. It almost drives Aedion to physically recoil, just as he had done that first time so many years ago.

And on the young prince’s neck? A thin, obsidian torque. Something _else_ gazes out at Aedion from within that childlike face.   
  
It is the same kind of something, Aedion finds, that meets his eyes when he turns back to face King Havilliard.

\-------

Aedion beheads Hollin later that very same week.

\--------

He flees Adarlan. Aedion has no choice.

The moment his sword hit Prince Hollin’s neck, Aedion’s life was forfeit. Everything he’d been working for up to this moment was gone. His position, his armies and his reputation.

Somehow, Aedion can’t bring himself to feel regret.

\-----------  
  
The former general flees to Erith. It’s the only place he can hope to find shelter from the King’s wrath.

There is little love for the Havilliards here, and Aedion finds that it is a welcome sentiment. He is so very tired of pretending.

\--------

Yarrin is the furthest Aedion can go without openly treading into uncharted territory. He makes a deal. Safety and protection for the town and its roads in return for shelter and silence.

He rides alone, for once, and doesn’t stop by a single brothel.

Aedion finds some of his men patrolling the merchant roads, much to his delight. They are still loyal, and it warms the shredded remains of Aedion’s heart to watch them defend his name.

For the first time in nearly ten years, Aedion feels _free._  
\--------------


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vweeeeeeeeeeen   
> I slogged a bit through this one  
> sorry yo  
> plot is coming i sw e ar

Aelin silently slid Aedion’s mug of cider across the bar to him as he fell silent. “Thank you,” he rasped out, and grabbed the drink greedily.

_I’m sorry_ , Aelin wanted to say. The words sat at the tip of her tongue, poised and ready to fly- but it wouldn’t be enough. Would _never_ be enough. “Another?” She asked instead, gesturing to the once-again empty mug.

Aedion nodded. “Please.”

The young woman wordlessly refilled the cup, her hands acting solely on instinct as she fought to rein in the roaring numbness inside her head. In the background, the group of drunks laughed uproariously. Aelin viciously wished them ill.  
  
Aedion seemed to pick up on the noise as well, and gave a dead-sounding chuckle. “It seems unfair, doesn’t it?” He inclined his head ever so slightly towards the merriment. Aelin passed him his drink.

“What does?”

Eyes never leaving the group, Aedion responded. “That they get to laugh.”

And it was unfair. _Grossly_ unfair, that they got to laugh so carelessly when so many others didn’t. When almost all of Aelin’s family lay burned and dead beneath the ground. The roaring quieted, replaced instead by the crackle of wildfire. The polished bar beneath Aelin’s hands began to smolder in response to her anger. Smoke tickled Aelin’s nostrils, and she yanked her fingers away from the wood, hissing at the dark handprints scorched into the polish.

Her eyes snapped to Aedion on instinct, panic bubbling up in her chest.

“How long has that been happening?” Aedion asked, and raised a surprised eyebrow at the damage. Aelin frowned at him, and the tension in the air dissipated.

“I’d forgotten that you knew about that.” She mumbled, swaddling her hands in the polishing cloth once again. “It’s been happening since I crossed over to Erith. It has something to do with the magic ban, I think. It happens when I get angry”

Aedion hummed quietly around his mug. “You always did have a hard time controlling your temper.” Aforementioned temper flared up again, and the rag around Aelin’s hands steamed ominously. She shoved her palms into a nearby water bucket. Aedion’s eyebrows reached his hairline. _Point proven,_ they seemed to say.

“It hasn’t been a problem up until now,” Aelin hissed, glaring darkly at the bubbling water. It gave a cheeky _pop_ , and her expression went from terrifying to murderous. Aedion made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a choked off laugh. Aelin turned her gaze to him instead.  
  
“You owe me a question.” He said, skillfully avoiding her eyes. He leaned back in his chair. “But I can’t hang around here for much longer.” _I can’t and won’t leave you either_. The words were unspoken, but Aelin heard them just the same.

Aelin sighed. “King’s ransom and all that. Yes, I know.” She murmured, propping her elbows up on the bar. “Where have you been staying up till now anyways?”  
  
Aedion’s face shifted through a multitude of expressions. It would have been funny if Aelin’s heart hadn’t broken at the sight of the distrust and suspicion warring across his familiar features. “You don’t have to tell me.” She added quickly, understanding his hesitation all too well. She’d spent too many years lying and cheating to not have developed a healthy sense of secrecy.

The golden man shook his head and leaned forward, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I.. I don’t have a place. I move around.”

That explained the muddy boots, then. Good. She could ease one of his worries, at least.

“You do now.” Aelin proclaimed, knocking their foreheads together as she leaned across the bar. “Luckily for you, I happen to have a room. With a bath. _And_ a bed.”

“Such luxury.” Aedion scoffed, but his eyes lit up at the mention of shelter.

“We can’t all live in warrior-squalor.” Aelin said fondly, and reached out a hand to muss what little of his hair she could see from beneath his hood. Aedion leaned into the touch, humming slightly. Stinging wetness gathered up in the corners of Aelin’s eyes.

Before she could start crying in earnest, Aelin leaned away from the bar. “ _Och_ , begone with you.” She breathed, and pushed the hulking mass that was Aedion away with a gentle hand. Something that sounded suspiciously like a disappointed whine slid out from underneath that dark hood, but her cousin pulled back all the same. Aelin slid her room key across the bar.

“I’m in the inn across the market square. Second floor, third door to your right.” The key disappeared into Aedion’s massive hand. “If anyone asks who you are, say that Lillian invited you back to her room after you left the bar. The innkeeper knows who I am, and shouldn’t question you after that.” Aelin forced herself to take a step backwards, and to pick up the polishing cloth again.

A tense silence fell between the pair, and a worrying tendril of smoke drifted up from between Aelin’s fingers. She clenched her fists.

“I should...... Get going... Then.” Aedion said reluctantly, and pushed his chair back from the bar, heaving himself to his feet as he did so. They both lingered for a few moments, fidgeting uncomfortably.   
  
“See you back at the room?” Aelin asked, wringing the bar cloth between her hands. _Don’t go_.   
  
“Definitely.” Aedion affirmed, but made no move to leave. _Don’t disappear_.

_Please._

\-------

Aedion ended up waiting out the rest of Aelin’s shift in the back room behind the bar.

After several minutes of attempted goodbyes had made it clear that neither she nor Aedion had any intentions of separating, Aelin had unceremoniously shoved a bowl of warm stew and a mug of ale into Aedion’s hands, and had pushed him through the door into the dry storage room.

“It’s dead today anyways,” She explained as she towed him along. “The only ones allowed back here are employees, but since I’m the only one working today, I say it’s fine. My shift will be over soon, in any case.” Aelin was babbling. She knew it, Aedion knew it, hell, even the souped up men in the _corner_ probably knew it. Relief made her jaw damnably loose. Aelin could almost imagine the disappointed look Arobynn would have given her.

But Aedion made no move to protest. In fact, he took to his new position behind the door with an sense of what seemed to be grim enthusiasm, glancing around the corner every few seconds.

_Are you still there?_ The look seemed to say, and if it was anybody else, Aelin might have called them out on it- might have _snarked._ But it was Aedion who was doing the glancing, and wyrd damn her, Aelin was glancing back.

Aedion was safe. Aedion was alive. Aedion was _here_.

Aedion was still her target.

Aelin shook her head and frowned over the rum she was pouring. _I’ll figure that out later,_ she promised herself, pushing a smile to her lips as a customer made a questioning noise at her expression. “Just thinking about tonight’s dinner,” she lied smoothly, scrunching her nose as she spoke. “I didn’t have time to go to market this time around, so my ingredients are pretty limited.” The older woman on the other side of the bar grimaced in sympathy, Aelin’s disquiet forgotten.

“Any ideas?” Aelin asked, finding new inspiration in the woman’s weathered hands, “I’m cooking for two tonight, and can’t come up with anything good.” When it came to food preparation, Aelin was useless in all aspects save for breakfast. Any advice this farmer’s wife had to offer would be priceless. The assassin felt like a reunion such as this called for something fancier than mediocre scrambled eggs.

A knowing gleam crept into the woman’s eyes, and Aelin flushed in mortification. _Ah._

“Something for _someone special_?” The tone was playful, and more than a bit suggestive. Oh gods, Aelin wanted to sink into the floor right there and then. It wasn’t an outrageous assumption, not by any means. But the implications- Aelin resisted the urge to shudder. I made this bed, she thought, her mind tracing back to the excuses she’d told Aedion to give to her landlord (easier then, when she hadn’t had to face the direct consequences), And it looks like I’ll have to lie in it.

“Yes.” She bit out, hoping to all the gods that she’d imagined the wheezing sounds of amusement coming from the back room. The woman gave a delighted squeal and grabbed Aelin’s hands between her own. “Finally!” Rita, or maybe Ruth? exclaimed, eyes lighting up happily. “Everyone has been wondering when you’d find a match, young and pretty as you are, Lillian!”

Aelin hoped her expression conveyed the right amount of.... Whatever it was that she was meant to be feeling. She was _definitely_ not imagining the laughter.

“Mmmm,” The assassin hummed noncommittally, hoping that Rita (or maybe it was Rachel?) would get the hint. She didn’t, and continued instead to prattle on. _Serves me right for asking_ , Aelin thought.

_This goddamn recipe had better be worth it._

\----------------------

  
“It’s delicious.” Aedion said apologetically through a mouthful of potatoes. Aelin shot him a glare and speared a chunk of chicken with her fork.

_I should damn well hope so._ Despite using every ounce of charisma she had in her body, Aelin hadn’t been able to weasel herself out of Ruth’s clutches until her coworker had come to take her place at the bar. And Aedion... He hadn’t stopped laughing until she’d threatened to fry him along with the poultry.

...... She had to admit that Aedion was right though, the food _was_ delicious. The flavor didn’t stop her from vengefully launching a piece of green-bean at his face, however. The vegetable hit home with a satisfying smack.

Aedion only raised his eyebrows.   
  
He gestured with his fork. “You feeling up for your question?”

Aelin frowned, the food turning leaden in her stomach. _No,_ she wasn’t. “Yeah, I might as well.” Her mouth replied traitorously. Embers stirred in her gut. Would he ask the obvious? Had he guessed at her task?

Aelin braced herself as her golden-haired cousin sent her a considering glance.

“Your scars.” He said, and motioned with his utensil again. “How did you get your scars?”

She choked on her potato.

“ _Scars_?” Aelin spluttered, her eyes watering through her coughs. Out of all the topics he could have chosen-! “You want to know about my _scars_?”

Aedion nodded, his eyes blazing.

The assassin leaned back in her chair, considering. “Anywhere in particular you’d like to start? Or would you rather I..... _Generalize_?” Aedion’s attention went straight to her wrists, where normally thin rings of white marred her skin.

“I could have sworn I covered those,” she murmured, glancing down to check the concealing paste she’d smeared there earlier that day. Still intact, it seemed. Aelin shot the former general a questioning look. “How’d you know?”

Aedion shrugged. “I’m good at noticing things.”

Though the ache was long gone, Aelin’s fingers looped around one of her wrists, rubbing away the echoes of an old hurt. Aelin frowned. She’d have to check her tells again. “I got these around the same time I figured out how to get myself out of standard handcuffs.”

_Go on_ , the tilt of Aedion’s head seemed to say.

No escaping the truth, then. Fine. If anyone deserved to know of Aelin’s past, it was Aedion. She could offer him no less after he’d bared his soul to her earlier. Aelin took a deep breath. “You’ve heard of the Assassin’s Guild in Rifthold, right?”

Aedion snorted. “Who hasn’t? They’ve been a royal pain in my ass more than a few times.” Aelin filed away the information for later, fully intending to scour her brain for any mention of those implied incidents. “Well,” she continued, flicking her eyes up to monitor her cousin’s expression. “In that case, you’ve _definitely_ heard of Celaena Sardothien.”

Some small, sick part of Aelin felt a flicker of pride at the way Aedion’s golden skin paled slightly. “Yes.” He said simply. The slight chill in his voice caused Aelin to hesitate. Had she misjudged his tolerance?

No matter. She’d committed. If Aedion hated her for who she was and what she’d done.... Well.. It was probably more than deserved.

“Allow me to introduce you.” Aelin said, the familiar mask of swaggering arrogance slipping across her face out of sheer habit. “To one Celaena Sardothien, master assassin and thief, at your service.” She gestured to herself, and her eyes flicked up to meet Aedion’s.

His face had gone carefully blank. But his eyes? They told a different story. They told Aelin that his heart was breaking.

 

Aelin’s calm facade faltered. “Aedion?” She asked quietly, not quite daring to reach her hand out to him. Not when they were treading such delicate ground. “You were sent here to kill me.” Aedion stated, his eyes lined with silver.

No sense in lying. “Yes.” Aelin agreed. “I was sent here to kill you.”

Aedion’s throat bobbed. “And?”

“Under oath and contract,” Aelin said quietly, her eyes never leaving her cousin’s face, “I was a dead woman the moment I let you leave that bar.”

Silence. Fear pulsed in Aelin’s veins, thick and molten. The taste of ashes filled her mouth.

And then, “The more the merrier, I guess,” Aedion chuckled weakly. The tension disappeared with an almost audible  _snap_. “Welcome to the bounty club, dear Aelin. Happy to have you.” He sent her an appraising look. “That explains the shackles, then. You think I’d have remembered a master thief being caught, though. Which prison?”

“No prison.” Aelin said, still limp with relief. _Not yet anyways._ “Like I said, I learned how to get out of handcuffs. The hard way.” Aelin didn’t feel the need to mention precisely how she’d gotten out, or how her wrists had taken months to properly heal. Arobynn was anything _but_ a kind teacher. “My master believed in learning through experience.”

Aedion’s eyes strayed to her wrists again. “He must have been a monster.”

“He still is.” Aelin said, very real unease uncoiling in her stomach. “And he’s who’ll hunt me down once word reaches him of my....” She paused, considering. “Betrayal? Refusal? It doesn’t matter. Your head was to be the crown jewel of a very, _very_ lucrative deal with an equally important client. He’ll be sore to miss it.”  
  
An uninvited shudder rippled down her body. Having Arobynn as a mentor was one thing... But as an enemy? “We’ll have to watch our backs.” Aelin said softly.

A massive, callused hand grabbed hers. “Together this time.” Aedion promised, his eyes burning from within. “We’ll do it _together._ ”

Despite the situation, despite everything, an old smile quirked up the corner of Aelin’s lips. “Together.” She agreed. “Now go finish your food before it gets cold. I suffered for that recipe”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -screams-   
> its here im sorry it took so long  
> Ive read the reviews and ??/ Im so happy you guys want me to keep writing??/ I love you??/

Lysandra was many things.

Courtesan, liar, whore- all familiar faces. Familiar names.

Lysandra was many things, but a fool was not one of them.

\-----------------  
  
“I have a mission for you,” Arobynn had murmured one night, his calloused hand sweeping circles up and down Lysandra’s naked back. The moonlight filtered in through the window and threw silver fractals across the courtesan’s exposed skin. She leaned into his gentle touch like a cat, repressing the urge to shudder as his hand slipped lower. “O _h_?”

The King of Assassins hummed in confirmation, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “A mission you might even _enjoy_ , I think.” _Die in a hole_ , Lysandra wanted to say, but instead- “I enjoy _all_ of your missions, Arobynn, you know I do.”

It wasn’t a total lie, at least. Arobynn often asked Lysandra to investigate targets and clients on his behalf. It lent her a welcome reprieve from clients and Clarisse alike, and Arobynn always paid well. Doing his dirty work, though? It rubbed what little remained of Lysandra’s pride the wrong way.

He chuckled, the movement rocking Lysandra’s body where she lay nestled against his chest. “Lets just say a certain...... _Mutual acquaintance_ of ours has been taking too long to finish an assignment. I need you to check up on her progress.”

A wicked smile and turquoise eyes flashed into Lysandra’s mind, and the scar on her ear throbbed with a phantom pain. “She has a habit of doing things her own way, you see.” Arobynn purred, glancing down at Lysandra’s face. “So you need to go remind our dear Celaena just who,” he stroked a stray tendril of auburn hair behind Lysandra’s ear, “and _what_ she belongs to.”

Lysandra shuddered.

“When do I leave?” She asked.

Arobynn smiled.  
\-----------------------------------------

“No.” Aedion said stubbornly, a fierce gleam lighting his eyes. “No way in hell.”

Aelin gritted her teeth and sighed. “Just shut up and do it.” She could already feel a faint headache starting to brew in her temples, and the stubborn set to Aedion’s jaw promised no reprieve. She had a shift coming up soon, and like the overprotective bodyguard that he was, Aedion refused to let her go anywhere without him. As sweet of a gesture as it was, Aedion also happened to be the most wanted man in Erith. On top of that, the two cousins were as alike as they could possibly be. An undisguised Aedion would bring about too many questions regarding Aelin’s heritage.

“You’re too recognizable the way you are!” Aelin hissed, shoving the brick of dye towards her frankly insufferable cousin. “I don’t _care_ how nice you think your hair is- our survival is more important!”

Aedion set his jaw. Aelin narrowed her eyes. “It’s this or the scissors.” She said grimly.

A bead of sweat rolled down the Wolf of the North’s jaw.

Aelin’s eyebrows lowered dangerously.

“Fine!” Aedion broke with a gush of air. “ _Fine_! Fine, I’ll do it.” He eyed the brick of dye with a murderous look. “If this ruins my hair I’ll never forgive you,” Aedion added petulantly.

“It won’t.” Aelin assured him tiredly. She’d used this brand of dye often enough to know its limitations. “It’ll be gone within two weeks.” Already she could feel her finances going down the dye-related drain. The weasel that sold the bricks was a miserly old coot with no sense of business.

The general grabbed the brick of dye with a huff and marched into the bathroom. The door slammed loudly behind him, and Aelin didn’t bother to hide her laugh. _Touchy touchy_.

When the sounds of running water started up, Aelin focused her blank gaze on the wall and let her thoughts drift. _We can’t stay in Yarrin forever._ She hadn’t written to Arobynn in well over a month now, and her master was bound to get suspicious. Already, Aelin had started checking for familiar or suspicious faces among the townspeople. It was only a matter of time before someone came to either check up on or eliminate her.

Every day spent at the bar was another chance for someone to discover her and Aedion. It was a risk that they couldn’t keep taking.

But where to go? Adarlan? _Gods_ no. They could move around Erith, Aelin supposed. Living like a pair of vagrants on the run. It would work for a little while- give them time to figure out their situation.

_I already know what Aedion will want to do,_ Aelin thought with a groan, and rubbed her temples. _I’ll have to talk him out of it._ Already her cousin had started to talk about coups and revolutions. Aelin wanted none of it.

(“Let the dust settle a bit,” he had said, a bright light burning in his eyes. “Let the King relax and grow complacent a bit.” Aelin had raised her eyebrows.  
  
“I’m not sure he knows _how_ to relax.” She said. Aedion scowled at her.  
  
“Don’t rain on my parade.” He replied with a pout, but let the topic drop.)

The shower was still going, but some new and colorful curses were drifting into the room from underneath the door. Aelin couldn’t help but smile fondly.

_We’ll be alright,_ she decided. _Whatever we decide to do, we’ll be okay._

_As long as we’re together._

\--------------------------------------------------------

  
“There’s some ruins outside of town.” Aedion said, plonking his finger down onto a map of Erith. Aelin looked up at him from between her fingers. “You didn’t think to tell me about this _before_ now?” She hissed tiredly. They’d been scouring the map for almost a week now trying to find a safe refuge to flee to with no apparent progress.

Aedion shrugged, unrepentant. Aelin glowered at him. “I had my reasons,” he said, and shifted around his finger. “There’s some nasty rumors surrounding the place.”

Aelin motioned for him to continue. “As far as I know,” Aedion went on with a nod in her direction, “Nobody’s been there for _generations_. The place is abandoned for sure. _But_!” He interjected as Aelin’s face brightened; “That doesn’t mean it’s safe. Even the bandits I drove off were afraid of the place.”

“’ _Nobody comes out alive_ ,’ they said.” Aedion’s hand moved around some more. “I went to check it out of course, (Aelin’s lips twitched in amusement here) but I never found anything. I always stopped in front of the forest.”

“Forest?” Aelin asked, interest piqued. “Forest.” Aedion confirmed. “A forest so deep and thick that you can’t see the light through the trees. Trunks thicker than the body of a man, and canopies that just get taller the further you go. It almost seemed endless.” He shuddered. “You know as well as I do that we have nothing to fear from the trees- but something about that place feels _off_. I wouldn’t go there unless I had to.”

Aelin considered, and then drew an **X** next to Aedion’s finger. “Only as a last resort.” She explained, and heaved herself back towards the southern end of the map.

\--------------------------------------

  
The blade of her dagger sank into the throat of the assassin with a wet sound. “Rot in hell.” Aelin hissed, and dropped the warm corpse into the river.

The body bobbed a few times, and then sank. Aelin watched it go with furrowed brows. This was the second killer she’d had to dispose of this month. Not Arobynn’s- not yet, at least. No, these were kingdom trained. The onyx wyvern embroidered on their tunics betrayed their origin.

She’d seen the man sneaking around during the closing hours of her shift at the tavern. The man had done an admirable job of trying to conceal his shaking hands, but to the eyes of an Arobynn trained assassin, the tell was obvious. Aelin had debated poisoning the shaking man then and there, but at the end of the day, she let him walk away. _Benefit of the doubt_ , she’d told Aedion. That being said, she had still snuck out of her rooms that night to confront the man after her cousin had fallen asleep.

The assassin had tried to knife her almost as soon as she’d left the building. The amateur. She’d made short work of the man.

Aelin chucked a stone into the river. _Two assassins in two weeks? Our time in Yarrin is up._ She decided as the rock landed with a satisfying plunk. _Someone here has let our secret slip._

Another rock was thrown, and then Aelin stood up with a sigh. She rolled her shoulders and bounced on the balls of her feet and resigned herself to the coming nights of little sleep. Tracking down whatever poor bastard had let their tongue slip would be a time-consuming job.  
  
“Better get to work.” She muttered darkly, and walked back into the shadows.

\------------------------------------------------------------

  
The polishing cloth hit the gleaming bartop with a sodden _thwack_ as Aelin threw it down in disgust.

“It’s been almost a week since I started snooping!” She said, and slammed her palms down onto the gleaming wood . From where he sat at the bar, Aedion looked up at his cousin from underneath golden-brown bangs and shrugged. “I don’t doubt that you’re doing your best, but what if the person already fled?”

Aelin shook her head. “I’ve been keeping watch at the town borders.” She muttered quietly. “I know everyone that comes and goes through this village. No new faces, asides from the fools that wanted to try their luck with me.”

Aedion frowned and Aelin scented danger. “Speaking of which,” he said, straightening slightly in his chair. “You can’t just go sneaking out in the middle of the night without telling me! What if you got ambushed or even _kill-_?”

The polishing cloth hit Aedion square in the face.

“This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.” Aelin said in exasperation. “What do you want me to do? Drag your heavy ass across all these rooftops? I think _not_.”

“I can handle myself.” She continued, pinning Aedion with a steady gaze. “I’ve survived on my own for these past few years, and have no intention of dying now to an assassin barely out of his teens.” Aelin didn’t feel the need to mention that she, herself was an assassin barely out of her teens. It wasn’t relevant to the conversation.

Her cousin’s face drooped, and a heavy weight crept back into his shoulders. “That’s my _point_ , Aelin. You shouldn’t have had to do it all by yourself.”

Aelin felt her jaw drop. “O-oh.”

“I’m here for you now.” Aedion said beseechingly. “I know you can handle yourself. I’ve never doubted that. I just want to be there to watch your back in case.... Well. In case you bite off more than you can chew.”

_I don’t want to lose you again._

The words- though unspoken- hung heavy in the air.

“I’ll let you know next time.” Aelin promised softly. “I can’t guarantee that it’ll go well; I’m too used to working alone. _But_!” She lifted a finger in emphasis. “I’ll do my best to get better.”

“Good.” Aedion said with a curt nod, and that was that. He went back to monitoring the tavern in silence, the guard dog incarnate.

After staring at his hooded profile for a few seconds, Aelin turned her attention back to the glassware in front of her and frowned intensely. _It doesn’t make sense!_ She thought bitterly, not caring as her palms began to smolder. _I’ve double checked everyone in this town who came here after me. Every. Single. Alibi. Everyone checks out!_ With a groan she buried her face in her too-warm hands.

_We can’t leave town until whoever knows about us is gone. We can’t risk being ratted out when we’re on the move._

Aelin shared a heavy look with Aedion. They were both sitting ducks in Yarrin and neither of them liked it. The longer they stayed the more danger they were in.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Lysandra was many things. Could _be_ many things.

A familiar face or an old friend- both were masks she could wear.

A housewife or a farmhand. Even a woman named Ruth.

Celaena, however. Could not be many things. She could disguise herself as Lillian all she wanted- but Lysandra would find her. Would always find her.

After all, magic called to magic. And Aelin Galathynius, lost queen of the fallen kingdom of Terrasen was as magical as one could get.  
  
Lysandra almost felt bad for her. _Almost_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No betas here, we die like men. Or make spelling errors like them, at least. ,,,,,,,,,, welcome to comma town.,,,,,,,,,,,,

Aedion and Aelin lasted for another week before a patrol of royal guards- ones not loyal to Aedion or his cause- stormed the town in search for a pair of golden-blonde heads. 

 

The townspeople had kept their silence so far, but neither of the cousins felt like testing their luck against twenty sharpened and gleaming swords. Aelin had considered sneaking into their camp for almost two days before Aedion managed to dissuade her. “What happens if one wakes up?” He asked.

 

Aelin looked up from sharpening her favorite dagger. It had grown regrettably dull during her long stint as a barmaid. “They can’t wake up if their throats are slit,” She said slowly. “That’s the whole idea. For them to, y’know,  _ not  _ wake up.”

 

From the way Aedion’s shoulders tensed up, Aelin could tell he was strongly resisting the urge to throw his hands in the air. He had a tendency to talk with his hands almost as much as with his mouth. Instead, Aedion settled for a patient sigh. “If we could pull it off without a hitch, then sure! I’m all for it.” Before Aelin could brighten up too much though, he gave her a heavy look. “But-  _ yes _ , there’s a  _ but, Ae _ lin - what if they have an assassin with them? What if whoever leaked our location in the first place is still around? We haven’t found them yet.” A hand swished through the air with finality. “We can’t risk it. There’s too many variables.”

 

Aelin fumed silently. He was right, of course. Damn him and his strategies. “It just doesn’t sit right with me to let them all go without a fight.” She admitted. “I’m not used to leaving people alive to tell the tale.”

 

“Believe me, neither am I,” Aedion said, moving to sit down next to his cousin. “Especially given my..... situation. But this time? I think if we want to both get out of this alive, we have to.”

 

Letting the tension seep out of her shoulders, Aelin sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” She leaned back in her chair until her hair spilled out and over the wood. She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “This is the first time that I’ve been ratted out from so deep undercover, though. It rubs me the wrong way. From the trail I left, it should have been hard for even Arobynn to find me. I never specified locations in my letters.”

 

Aedion shrugged. “Ratted out or no, we still have to leave.” He leaned forwards in his chair and returned to skimming over the map. It was already pockmarked and full of holes and scribbles. 

 

Aelin made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat, and tuned out Aedion’s brainstorming. I _ f they managed to pick up my trail after months of not being found... Then who’s to say they won’t find us again? _ Aelin worried at her lips some more, and rested her feet on the table. _ It must have been Arobynn. He wouldn’t bother coming out himself, of course, so one of his lackeys must be behind it.  _ Faces and specialties ran through her mind.  _ Tern? No. _ She dismissed the thought almost as soon as she brought it up.  _ He doesn’t like operating out of the city. Harding, then, or Mullin..... _

 

Both options seemed unlikely. Though all top assassins within Arobynn’s guild, none were skilled enough to trace Aelin. It wasn’t a prideful statement- no, Arobynn had simply molded her that way. To be better. To be untraceable. To be a  _ weapon _ .  _ No doubt he wouldn’t have trained me so thoroughly had he known I’d rebel. _ Aelin thought bitterly. She watched a tendril of smoke snake its way through her fingers with a numb sort of detachment.

 

Unbeknownst to her, Aedion had paused his examinations in favor of watching her. There was a cautious sort of gleam in his eye. Not from fear, no- he’d stopped fearing Aelin long before she could walk- but there was a sort of wary watchfullness in his eyes all the same. The tendril of smoke   _ poofed  _ out of existence as Aelin clenched her fist, signalling her return to the situation at hand. Aedion quickly redirected his attention to the map.

 

The chair was pushed away with the sharp squeal of wood on wood as she stood up. Feigning surprise, Aeidon angled his head towards Aelin. “Well?” He asked.

 

“We have to catch them off guard.” She said simply, and snatched the map off from the table, not even bothering to remove the daggers she’d stabbed into it earlier. The thin parchment shredded against the razor-thin edges.  Aedion yanked back his hands and raised them in silent submission. “What did the map ever do to you?”

 

“Not help.” She said sniffily, and reached for her daggers. Aedion helped pluck them out of the worn wooden table. “I guess.” He said slowly. “But a ripped map will be even  _ less  _ help. Buying another one now would be too conspicuous.”

 

“Good.” Aelin replied, wrapping the retrieved blades in some worn cloth. “A normal map wouldn’t help us anyways- not where _ we’re  _ going, at least.”

 

Aedion raised his eyebrows. “Did I miss something?” He asked at last. “Last time I checked you were planning on murdering everybody in their sleep. What changed?”

 

“Don’t count that out just yet,” Aelin said. “I still might murder everyone in their sleep out of spite. No. What  _ changed  _ is that we’re limiting ourselves to where we can hide.” She spread her arms out and spun in a quick circle. “We’ve been thinking too  _ small _ , Aedion.”

 

“All of Adarlan and Erith was too small for you, cousin?”

 

She shot him a dirty look. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Stop putting words into my mouth.” He shrugged apologetically, and motioned for her to continue. Aelin narrowed her eyes, but spoke all the same. “I know that we had reservations about the forest. I  _ know _ . But..” She broke off for a moment, assessing Aedion’s expression. “It looks like we have no other choice but to go north. It’s uncharted territory- and as far as we know, no one goes beyond the border.”

 

Aedion’s eyes were narrow, but he didn’t interrupt. She took a deep breath and continued. “If we leave soon, I think we can manage to make our way around and past the forest before the patrol catches wind of us. If the ruins are really as haunted as everyone seems to think they are, we can probably stay unnoticed even if we’re a good distance away from them.”

 

Her cousin let out a deep unhappy groan, and stretched out in his chair. “It’s a solid plan.” He admitted, stroking his chin. “I don’t like going near the ruins, but you’re definitely right about the superstition. It should keep them off our trail.  _ Ugh. _ ” Aedion shook his head in discontent, his already lightening hair fanning out behind him. “When do we leave?”

 

“The sooner the better.” Aelin replied. “As far as I’m concerned, anyone could be the spy. Even the inkeeper. If we can slip out without anyone noticing or expecting our exit, that would be ideal.”

 

“So what you’re saying is we’re leaving… Tonight?” From the wounded look on Aedion’s face, he’d been expecting a good night’s sleep. 

“Poor baby,” Aelin crooned. “Already used to sleeping in a bed?”

 

He threw a pillow at her face, and she caught it with a laugh. “Pack your bags, pretty boy! We leave for the northern border in an hour!”

 

* * *

 

 

Lillian didn’t show up for her shift at the bar that day.

 

From the corner, Lysandra watched from the eyes of an older village man as a replacement barkeeper had to be called in. The woman working overtime was obviously not pleased- her ruddy cheeks and low curses were proof enough- but she kept glancing towards the door as if expecting her colleague to walk through. Obviously she had some faith in Aelin’s concocted persona.  _ How odd.  _

 

From the little time she’d spent with the young assassin, Lysandra had found nothing admirable about her character. She was bossy, rude and more than a bit arrogant. To top it off, she had a temper almost nasty enough to match Arobynn’s.  _ Like teacher like student. _ Lysandra had thought. Both were forces to reckon with in their own right. Both equally conceited.

 

In the village, however, Aelin seemed to be a different woman. Gone was the temper. Gone was the rudeness. In fact, she’d been downright pleasant when Lysandra had talked to her at the bar. Granted, it had been with a different face. Lysandra doubted the reception would have been half as nice had Aelin known just who she was talking to. The smile on the woman’s face had been genuine, however. There wasn’t any hidden malice or rage behind it. Lysandra would have known. Would have probably smelled it on her.

 

Having her gift back was an immeasurable relief, like having a tight corset loosened after a long day. Lysandra could  _ breathe  _ again. Breathing meant the smell of sweat and old alcohol, though, so she kept it to a minimum in the bar at least. 

 

_ It is odd, though _ . Lysandra thought, swirling the diluted ale around in her cup,  _ That Arobynn sent me after her, out of all his assassins.  _ She was perfectly suited for the job, of course, but Arobynn couldn’t have known that. Couldn’t have known that a  _ shapeshifter  _ of all things lurked underneath the skin of his favorite whore. Unlikely as it was, the thought still made Lysandra’s skin crawl. She already had too much at stake to risk her secret being revealed.

 

The dark haired barmaid murmured another curse, and Lysandara settled herself into her chair. She’d wait the day out before reporting back. Aelin wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk moving suddenly under their noses. She’d spent  _ far  _ too long perfecting her alibi to just up and abandon both a home and job like that. It was a dead giveaway!  _ Plus,  _ Lysandra thought, taking a sip from her mug,  _ She actually seems to like this town and her coworkers. She’ll show. She has to. _

 

* * *

 

 

“It looks like we’re not being followed.” Aelin said with a relieved sigh. She motioned down to where Aedion stood at the base of the tree. He stood looking off into the distance, alert for any danger. She flashed her dagger to get his attention. 

 

“All good?” He asked, cupping his hands around his mouth to broadcast. Aelin nodded vigorously, and tossed her cloak down into his waiting arms. He caught it with a muffled grunt. She’d tossed her daggers and sword along with it, just for good measure.

 

With an honestly embarrassing twinge in her arm muscles, Aelin began her downward descent. It had been far too long since she’d practiced her tree climbing. Arobynn would be ashamed. The thought made her smile a little bit.  _ I’ve lived too long caring what that man thinks of me.  _ She thought with a vicious kind of glee.  _ I kind of understand how Aedion feels now. Freedom is… Nice. _

 

Her shoulder muscle pulsed unpleasantly.  _ That doesn’t mean I can slack off with training, though.  _ The corners of Aelin’s mouth sank imperceptibly.  _ I’ve been letting myself go these past few months. Scaling a building here and there won’t keep me in shape. _ Her muscles were in for an awfully rude awakening after so little use. She didn’t want to admit it in front of Aedion, but she’d enjoyed sleeping in a soft bed too. Leaving her room at the inn behind stung a little bit. 

 

Leaving the Eagle’s Head hurt too, but in a different way. It was the first sort of honest work Aelin had ever done. Today was the first shift she’d ever missed at the bar. No doubt Etta would be called in. The other woman wouldn’t be happy about it, but she’d do it anyway, likely thinking Aelin was sick or ill. Abandoning her… Hurt a little. They had almost become…. Friends. It was a bitter sort of parting, and one that Aelin would likely come to regret later. But to ensure her own survival, a quick break had been necessary.

 

She and Aedion had eased their way out of the window while the stars still shone in the dark sky. Aelin had made sure to take only the essentials with her.  Books, dresses and trinkets were all left behind. If anyone came to check up on her, it would look as if she had simply stepped out for a few hours. The only tell was that the map stayed too, with a big red X stamped over the name of a small southern town. It was an obvious distraction, but Aelin hoped it would put off pursuers for at least a day or two. 

 

Besides, they needed all the time they could get. Aelin had wasted far too much time teaching Aedion how to silently cross rooftops. He was both heavier and bulkier than she, and his footsteps fell heavy on the shingles. Aelin had almost strangled him when he misstepped around a farmer’s chimnney. His foot had slid sideways, and he’d barely managed to avoid slipping by grabbing the weathered brick. Small chunks of stone had pattered down onto the cobblestones below. 

 

He’d given her an apologetic grimace, which didn’t help at  _ all _ , but she noticed that he kept his steps lighter after that. 

 

Swinging over that last barrier and onto the soft forest floor had been a huge relief. This, Aelin could deal with. Both she and Aedion were in their natural element in the woods. They had grown up in forests like these.

The trees had been different- less imposing and much  _ warmer _ \- but they could deal.  _ Probably _ , Aelin amended as her pulse throbbed in her ear.  _ Gods its been too long since I’ve had to do anything besides polish glasses! _

 

Aelin’s feet touched the loam with a soft thump. “We’re all clear.” She said breathlessly, hands on her knees. Aedion looked her up and down, and grinned. “None of your sass.” Aelin said through her aching lungs. 

 

“I didn’t say anything.” He said innocently, his eyes bright with mirth. 

 

“No,” Aelin said agreeably, “You didn’t. But it’s the thought that counts. Come on twinkletoes, we can argue as we’re walking.” She held out her arms for her gear. 

 

“You sure you can handle carrying all that?” Aedion said teasingly. Aelin let out an affronted gasp, and lowered her brows. She hoped her expression conveyed the right amount of murderous intent. They stared at each other for a moment. The corner of Aelin’s mouth twitched.

 

Aelin won their silent contest as Aedion burst into booming laughter and set down her stuff. “Whatever you say, cousin.” His teeth gleamed as he beamed a smile at her. “Just don’t complain when you get too tired to carry your pack. I’m not helping!” He shouldered his own bag of burdens and set off at a brisk pace, whistling a merry tune. Sheepishly, Aelin picked up her daggers and cloak.  _ Somehow I feel like I’m the one that lost here. _ She thought with a frown, and jogged after Aedion’s disappearing form.

 

* * *

 

 

Lysandra stood in Aelin’s room in disbelief as soldiers filtered in through the door behind her. _I don’t believe it._ _She really left._

 

On the table in front of her was a tattered and ripped map. A sloppy X marked the spot somewhere in the south, but Lysandra disregarded it in favor of the heart drawn directly over Yarrin. A thin line of script rested just beneath the crudely rendered image.  _ Better luck next time!  _ It read. 

 

_ I take it all back _ . Lysandra thought numbly. A pulsing headache was starting to take shape behind her eyelids.  _ She hasn’t changed at all. Not a bit.  _ She wanted to sit down for a second- or for an eternity.  _ Damn that woman! How long has she been gone??  _ Her eyes kept flitting back towards the cheeky heart. Aelin had known she was being followed, of course she had. What Lysandra handn’t counted on was the assassin knowing just  _ how  _ closely she was being tracked. From the looks and smell of it, the ink had dried several hours ago. The window was locked from inside, and the muddy footprints leading out the door were old.

 

Lysandra clenched her fists to the point where her knuckles went white. This wouldn’t be a fun letter to write to Arobynn. He’d warned her just last week not to let Aelin slip away.

 

“ _ She’s tricky.”  _ He’d written. “ _ You have to keep her thinking that she’s pinned. If she manages to slip away, you’ll never find her, and you wouldn’t want that happening now would you, love? You know what happens if you fail.” _

 

She did. Lysandra knew all too well what would happen. She swallowed, and a bead of sweat trickled down her brow.  _ Shit.  _

 

* * *

 

 

The matched rythm of Aelin and Aedion’s feet on the ground made for a pleasant rythm.  After the initial discomfort had worn off, Aelin remembered just how much she liked a good jog. It had always helped her clear her mind and filter out her emotions. And now that Aedion was with her? 

 

It was pretty good.

 

Of course there was still the pressure of probably being followed, but for the moment, it was relatively low on Aelin’s list of concerns. She’d worry about it later. For now, she was still riding the high of a successful escape.

 

“We’ll be crossing through another river up ahead.” Aelin called back. Aedion made a resigned noise of acknowledgement. They’d already crossed through several streams and one river- and their clothes (spares, of course. They’d dumped the first pair after the second crossing) were still soaking wet. Uncomfortable though it was, muddying their trail by whatever means necessary would buy them more time.

 

That meant wet boots. And wet pants. 

 

Aedion was probably worse off between the two of them. He weighed almost twice as much as Aelin on a good day, and the excess of daggers and belts he’d strapped around his waist could in no way feel good against his wet shirt. Chafing was a necesssary evil, as they both knew,  but it was an evil that Aelin had planned for. She kept her daggers safely tucked within her sachel, and the thin leather belt slung over her shoulder.

 

Orange light was just starting to filter in throught the tall canopy above them.  _ Sunset already?  _ Aelin marveled.  _ I guess time flies when you’re having fun.  _

 

Aedion noticed the change in lighting too. “We should stop somewhere after the river.” He said. “If we find a nice overhang we can stay there for the night without anything giving our scents away.” They had decided pretty early on that whatever party  _ did  _ end up tracking them would rely on scent. For the King or Arobynn to send a party without hounds to hunt down a notorious assassin was ludicrous.

 

Even with the hounds, though, Aelin had made sure to muddy their trail as much as possible. This meant dispersing scent as much as possible. She’d left ribbons of her cloak tied to tree branches all around the forest, and had dumped what was left of the fabric at the foot of what she could only assume was a den of some sort. God help the poor fool who dug it out.

 

Clothes were changed into and abandoned. Both Aelin and Aedion had taken special care to wash their clothes with different scents than usual recently. Dirt and plant matter streaked through their usually glossy hair, and mud flaked off of their clothes and hands. It was Aedion’s idea initially- back in the Terrasen mountains he and his men had been forced to evade carnivores of all shapes and sizes. Scent dilution had often turned out to be their saving grace.

 

They kept moving until the sun had sunk completely beneath the horizon. As the last colors of dusk faded into oblivion, Aelin began to feel a growing sense of unease. Never before had she felt such  _ emptiness  _ in a forest. Always,  _ always  _ there had been some flicker of life. Some hint of the Little Folk. Not so here. In the darkness, the forest became a completely new kind of ominous. Trees which had before looked completely normal took on new, twisted shapes, and the leaves danced in an invisible breeze. The air felt stagnant in Aelin’s lungs.

 

Beneath their wet boots, the silver moss crumbled into a fine, pale dust. All sound seemed muted here. Even the faint sound of the river which had kept them company till now- faded into obscurity. No birds sang into this new kind of stillness. It was as if some sort of muffler had descended, forcing the world into silence. Even breathing seemed to be unnaturally loud. 

 

_ I get why Aedion was wary of this place. _ Aelin thought, somehow unwilling to break the silence.  _ This forest isn’t right. There should be noise! Life! Even at night the woods are never silent. Not like this, anyways.  _ Beside her, Aedion shuddered. In the faint light, his once-again golden hair took on a pale sheen and his skin washed out to grey. 

 

_ We shouldn’t be here. _ He seemed to say. Aelin swallowed, the sound seeming almost deafening in her ears.  _ No, we shouldn’t. _ She agreed.  _ Nothing living should be.  _ She loosed a shaky breath.

 

Once. 

 

Twice.

 

Three times- and then loud as an explosion of hellfire, the first howl of a hunting hound rang out behind them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. I suck at action, folks! unbeta'd, so all mistakes are on me

Aedion whirled around, his golden hair flying. “There’s no way!” He gritted out from between clenched teeth. “There’s no way in  _ hell  _ that they were able to pick up our trail that quickly!” He slid his sword free from its sheath with a sharp hiss and took up position, sweat beading on his brow. “What now Aelin?”

  


She swallowed, hands trembling. “I don’t know.”

  


No matter how quickly they travelled- no man or hound should have been able to trace and follow their trail so well. Both she and Aedion had been so  _ so _ very careful with their tracks. A cold sort of numbness flowed through her veins and her heartbeats thundered in her ears.  _ We can’t run. If disguising our trails didn’t work before- it definitely won’t work now.  _ Aelin chewed her lip.  _ But we can’t stay here. Best outcome, we get away and somehow surprise them. Worst outcome….  _ She shook her head.  _ We’ll get there when we get there. For now though- _

  


“I have a plan. Not a good one, but still a plan” She said towards Aedion. He angled his head in her direction, eyes never leaving the direction of the frenzied baying. “We have to keep going. Not for very long, just long enough to get us some distance. This isn’t a fight we can take head on.”

  


“We have to surprise them, then.” Aedion said, ever the quick learner. “I see where you’re going with this. But how do we know they won’t catch up to us as we’re running? For all we know they could have horses.”

  


Aelin hadn’t thought of that. Granted…. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about horses or hounds for all that much longer.” Reluctantly she turned her back toward the impending danger and set off at a quick jog. “This forest is freaky.” She said. “No birds, no crickets no nothing.If  _ we _ can sense it, then I’m betting they can too.”

  


Aedion didn’t say anything, his focus trained entirely on the distant sounds, but he nodded all the same as he kicked into a steady loping stride behind her.  Aelin continued. “Something tells me that their animals aren’t going to be too keen on following us. Natural animals, that is.” She glanced over at Aedion. “If it’s one of those creatures you killed back at the capital, we’re probably screwed to hell and back.”

  


He shrugged, and his daggers jingled with the motion. “Can’t say for sure. I never really payed too close attention to whatever it was. As long as it was dead, I was happy.” A sickly kind of grimace spread across his face. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was, though. The two of us are kind of high profile.” Aelin tilted her head in reluctant agreement. 

As the leagues rolled on beneath their aching feet, Aelin and Aedion cut the chatter and focused any and all energy on outpacing the seemingly tireless pursuers behind them. 

  


The forest grew deeper and darker the further they ran. A thick veil of fog snaked its way between the dark gaps in the trees and hung in the air around Aelin and Aedion. It seemed almost solid with how much it obscured. More than once, they would have to slow as either Aelin or Aedion tripped or stumbled over some unseen obstacle. Sound was warped, too. Though both she and Aedion had excellent hearing (Aedion especially, his mixed heritage evident in the slight tapering of his ears) neither of them could quite pinpoint how far away their pursuers were. 

  


At one point, Aelin could have sworn that they had succesfully escaped. Almost half an hour had passed without hearing anything in the distance. The only noise in her ears was her own labored breathing. 

  


A heavy hand thudded down onto her shoulder, and Aedion’s labored broke the bubble of silence around Aelin. Even though she’d known it was him, Aelin couldn’t help but startle. She hadn’t even heard his approaching  _ footsteps _ .

  


“They could be right behind us and we wouldn’t even  _ know it _ .” Aedion growled, his head swaying back and forth like a hound on a scent. “I can barely even hear my own damn breathing, how am I supposed to keep track of things I can’t sense?” 

  


Aelin didn’t answer. She was too busy trying to catch her breath, her hands on her knees. She sent an affirmative glance of what she hoped was sympathy in his direction. She didn’t have the energy left for emotions other than exhaustion.

  


The fog hung thick around them. It colored the air a milky white, and had an almost tangible thickness about it. No breeze blew along the forest floor. 

“My socks will never be dry again,” Aelin remarked to her cousin, making an effort to lighten the tense mood. Aedion shot her an unimpressed look. 

  


“At least you still  _ have  _ socks.” He said, gesturing meaningfully towards his own booted feet. 

  


“Oh that’s  _ disgusting!”  _ Aelin exclaimed, and crinkled her nose in horror. “I hope you enjoy your trench foot.” She said unsympathetically. “Once those are off, you’re staying far away from me. Far  _ far  _ away. You’ve probably got an evil stew strong enough to kill a bear in those by now.”

  


“I don’t doubt it.” Aedion said with a grimace, shaking his leg. “I took them off somewhere aroundthe third stream we forded. They were the smelliest thing I had on me at the time.” He looked down regretfully at his sopping wet shoes. “Now though, I think I might have to cut my feet off when we’re clear. It would be the kinder option for everyone involved.”

  


Aelin chuckled quietly, and Aedion grinned at her.

  


The sour aura that had hung around the cousins since their escape faded considerably. 

  


The warmth disappeared quickly, though. With a faint noise of reluctance, Aelin forced her legs straight. “We need to keep moving.” She said regretfully.

  


“If you hadn’t said it I would have.” Aedion agreed, rolling his shoulders impatiently. “Resting is nice, but we  _ really  _ dont’ have the time for it.” He cocked his head to the side, listening for any trace of noise in the murky woods. “ _ Especially _ since we don’t know where our opponents are.”

  


They trudged on silently for a few seconds.

Not for the first time, Aelin looked to the slightly pointed tips to Aedion’s ears and felt a slight sting of jealousy. She didn’t envy him the constant harassment and abuse that they brought, but the enhanced hearing? The strength? A girl could dream.

  


Though they shared family, Aedion’s bloodline had branched off somewhere along the way, bringing the Fae heritage that all Ashryvers carried within them to the forefront. This allowed him to harness a modicum of the gifts that their Fae ancestors had possessed. Aedion would probably never be as powerful as a  _ true _ member of the Fae race, but with them long extinct, he was as close to Fae as any mortal was likely to ever get. 

Even at the age of thirteen he’d stood taller than most men. Now? Aedion towered over everyone. Aelin had yet to find anyone who could look her cousin directly in the eyes.

  


Those Fae abilities seemed to have deserted Aedion now, however. No matter how much he swivelled and cocked his head as they trudged onwards, he couldn’t seem to pick up any noise. “Smell isn’t any good here either.” He grumbled catching Aelin’s eyes and tapping the side of his nose. “All I can smell is moss and disappointment.”

  


Aelin suppress a laugh. “And what does disappointment smell like?”

  


“Your chicken dinner.” Aedion replied without missing a beat. Aelin’s mouth popped open.

  


“M _ y _ -?”

  


Before she could continue, an arrow whizzed past her nose.

  


“Aw  _ shit.”  _ Aelin said intelligently, and blinked at where the arrow had been milliseconds ago. She could almost still feel the wind of its passing. “Aw shit we gotta  _ go.” _

  


Another arrow whizzed past her ear. This time, Aedion heard it. “What the hell?” He snarled, whirling back to face the direction it had flown from. “Arrows? If they’re that close-!”

  


“We can think about that  _ later.”  _ Aelin said hurriedly, grabbing Aedion by the collar and yanking  _ hard _ . She was panicking more than a little now. He strained against her pull a bit, and ground his teeth together. Running wasn’t in either of their natures.

  


“Aedion!” Aelin said firmly, and pulled a bit harder. Steam hissed up from underneath her grip.

  


“No!” He growled, and shook off her hand. “If they’ve tracked us this far and this well, running won’t make a difference. If you take off now, you should stand a good chance of getting away.” He shook out his shoulders and bounced lightly on the pads of his feet. “I’m the one they’re looking for after all- and I’d rather go down fighting face to face than with an arrow in my back.”

  


_ I’m not the important one here.  _ He seemed to say, and  _ damn  _ was Aelin sick of hearing that.

  


The young woman stood there numbly, her mind and heart racing as she tried to come up with a plan. Aedion was right, of course. No kind of zigzagging would throw off their enemies now. But head on collision? It was as good as a death sentence, and Aedion knew it the self-sacrificing  _ fool.  _

  


Some small, wretched corner of her brain saw the merit in his plan. Aedion was more than capable of buying her a good chunk of time to escape.  _ But what’s the point in that?  _ Aelin viciously asked herself, squashing that rebellious little voice back into the dark depths where it belonged.  _ If Aedion doesn’t make it out alive, then why am I even here?  _

  


Distantly, above the thundering of her pulse, Aelin noticed another arrow embed itself in a tree trunk. “I’m not leaving you here.” She heard herself say. She clenched her shaking fists. Since when had her hands gotten so  _ hot? _

  


“Then don’t.” Aedion said simply, his sword sliding out of its sheath with a foreboding hiss. He shot her a roguish grin that had probably won over the loyalty (and  _ definitely _ hearts) of countless northern soldiers. There was no fear in that smile, only confidence and a fierce kind of certainty.  _ Since I’m here it will be alright.  _ He seemed to say. Despite the godawful situation, Aelin felt some of the tension lift from her shoulders. 

  


Aelin unclenched her fists and went for the daggers at her waist with steady hands. The metal of the hilt was cool and refreshing against her overheated palms. Another arrow whizzed past.  _ The fog must be throwing them off, _ Aelin realized with a start.  _ After those first two lucky shots, nothing’s come  _ nearly  _ as close.  _  It was a heartening discovery.  _ Nice to know our enemies make mistakes too.  _ It made them seem somehow more human.

  


Her cousin’s wide back came into view as Aedion sidled closer. The dim light glinted off of his golden hair as he leaned in. “If you listen closely, you can hear them now.” He said quietly. The ‘they can hear us too’ went unsaid, but was universally understood anyways. 

  


Aelin nodded, and palmed her daggers. The dense mist made visibility hard- but it also leveled the playing field. Both sides were flying completely blind. 

  


Dense vegetation surrounded Aelin and Aedion on all sides. It wasn’t an ideal spot for a final stand by any means, but it also meant that attackers couldn’t swarm in from all directions. A pine needle crunched under Aelin’s heel as she shifted slightly, balancing her weight evenly in case a quick dodge was needed.

  


She took a deep breath and cleared her head.  _ Focus _ . She heard Arobynn say, his voice sharp and clear in her mind.  _ Clear your head. Concentrate.  _ Aelin closed her eyes, obeying the instincts her mentor had hammered into her time and again. She focused.

  


Aedion’s breathing, loud and clear. There was no hitch in his pattern- he was completely calm. This was his element, after all. Aelin allowed herself a smile, then dove back into the calm pool of concentration. Sounds sharpened and enhanced the deeper she dove. 

  


Pine needles rustled to her left. The sound was so sudden and sharp that Aelin gave a full body flinch. The sound ceased, and Aelin picked up on a faint intake of breath. 

  


_ Close enough to see my shape, then _ . Aelin decided.  _ But not close enough to risk attacking.  _ She tilted her head to the left, trusting Aedion to catch onto the movement.

  


He gave a faint nod, his gaze pointed forwards. 

  


Ever so gently, Aelin tightened her fingers around a dagger. If the other person had a clear enough view of her movement, there had to be a gap in the foliage. If there was a gap, that meant that Aelin would have a clear shot towards her target.

  


The creak of ill-used leather boots reached Aelin. Whoever it was was crouching back on their heels, clearly not trusting themselves to move quite yet.  _ That suits me just fine. _ Aelin thought grimly.  _ The less you move, the easier it will be to hit you.  _ The assassin slowly pivoted her body to face the direction of the noisy leather. Her muscles ached from the forced stiffness, but the lack of auditory input proved that her movements had gone unnoticed.

  


Body tight as a violin string, Aelin wound up, and let the blade loose with a snap of her arm. The dagger cut through the thick fog with a high pitched keening whistle. Silence, and then a wail of agony rose up through the trees. The sound was almost inhuman in its pitch.

  


_ Did I hit vitals? _ Aelin grasped her second dagger tightly, readying herself to fend off attackers. The brush crackled ahead of her as the injured foe tried to come crashing through the foliage. A bloodied hand shot through the fog and grappled onto the thick base of the tree in front of where Aelin stood. Cracked fingernails dug deep furrows into the mossy bark. 

  


A soldier staggered into the clearing. Bedraggled and clearly almost run to his limits, the man hobbled forward on unsteady legs. Blood dribbled down the front of his well-cut tunic, gleaming as it soaked into the embroidered black wyvern on his chest. Aelin’s dagger sat nestled firmly beneath the jawline of the soldier. With every breath he took, a fresh wave of blood pulsed out from within the wound.

  


“ _ Nice aim _ .” He gurgled, a sick sounding laugh bubbling out from his body. “ _ And after all the trouble I went through to track you down. What a shame. _ ” A cold chill ran down Aelin’s spine as he continued walking forwards, tipping to and fro. From under a thick fringe of black hair, black eyes peered up at Aelin with unending malice. 

  


Aedion let out a filthy curse, and muscled his way in between Aelin and the soldier. Too shocked to react, Aelin let herself slip behind her cousin’s broad back. “That’s one of the things I killed.” He gritted out, the muscle in his jaw jumping. “One of the ones I told you about.”

  


The demon’s throat convulsed and it spat at Aedion’s feet. “ _ Princekiller. _ ” It hissed, slitting its dark eyes. The sheer amount of hatred packed into that one word raised the hair on Aelin’s arms. The very air around it seemed to warp and twist with malice as it continued hobbling forward. Aelin’s back hit the rough bark of a birch tree. When had she backed up?

  


“You’ll go no further,  _ demon. _ ” Aedion growled, his blade steady between his hands. The creature looked at the golden haired warrior in contempt. The blood was coagulating around the dagger now. It was already walking straighter. “ _ I quite think I will.”  _ It said, as if that settled the matter. “ _ I would love nothing more than to kill you. But that woman? That woman over there?  She smells like the  _ sun. _ ”  _ It turned its empty eyes on Aelin. There was something  _ hungry _ in those depths.

  


Hands that were far too pale wrapped around the hilt of the dagger in its neck. With a sick sounding squelch, the dagger slid free and clattered to the ground with a final splatter of blood. “ _ I’m going to eat her alive.”  _

  


It happened almost as if in slow motion. Aelin saw the creature lunge, its muscles bunching and releasing in a frightening burst of speed. Aelin saw Aedion swing with that mighty sword-  _ her father’s blade  _ something inside her whispered- and miss by a hair. 

  


With a howl of triumph, the demon lunged forward, hands outstretched. A vicious kind of light gleamed in pitch black eyes as they came ever closer to Aelin. She saw rather than heard Aedion’s mouth twist in a horrified shout. He made one last desperate swing, his golden hair fanning out behind him- he would miss, she knew. 

  


_ Her father’s blade. _

  


Light glinted impossibly off of the sword’s edge as Aedion swung. Even as she watched the demon’s narrow fingers draw ever nearer, Aelin wondered at the spray of light. There was no sunlight to speak of- dusk had long since fallen. Even so, the sword gleamed like a dying star.

  


A plug loosened in Aelin’s chest, then. Like a shaken champagne bottle, the pressure mounted up beneath her chest and simmered there- waiting for the chance to escape. It was the gift she’d lost when magic had fallen, the gift that her mother had loved, her father had praised, that the king had  _ feared.  _ The magic she’d tried so  _ desperately _ to suppress for all these months. Every ember, every spark. Bottled up and hidden away. Forgotten. Ignored.

  


Steam roiled off Aelin in waves as the heat mounted and grew. Her damp clothes were instantly dried under the force of it. The creature had the sense to look worried now- but it was too late.

  


As pale hands closed around Aelin’s neck, the dam finally broke, and the full force of her fire was loosed upon the world.

  


She hoped that Aedion had found a chance to dodge

  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

  


A rattling explosion shook the forest, closely followed by a wave of blistering heat.

  


Surrounded by the scattered remains of what had once been a hunting party, two massive wolves raised their heads towards the commotion. One black, one white. Blood dripped down from their parted jaws. They shared a silent glance, and slunk into the forest together. 

  


In the last light of the explosions, onyx wyverns gleamed upon the chests of the fallen. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its kingdom of ash countdown time now lads

Aelin’s body had crumpled to the ashen remains of the forest floor as Aedion watched in abject horror. He’d managed to duck behind one of the massive tree trunks right before the blast had gone off. That didn’t mean he’d escaped unscathed, however. The thick woolen tunic he’d donned earlier that day had practically melted off of his skin, leaving ragged burns up and down his entire torso. It hurt like hell.

 

Aedion considered himself lucky.

 

The tree that he’d taken shelter behind had withstood the brunt of the impact- but it would clearly never grow again. The trunk had been charred into charcoal the whole way through, and the leaves had poofed into nonexistence the instant Aelin had released her flames. 

 

And the demon? One would almost think it had never existed in the first place. 

 

The skeletal remains of the soldier crumbled where they stood, dissolving into a fine black powder in the wind. All that remained of what had once been a King’s Guard was the small, black onyx ring on the forest floor. Aedion considered it for a moment, then brought the hilt of his sword down onto it, cracking it neatly in half with the force of his blow. 

 

Hunkered down next to Aelin, Aedion considered his cousin in a new kind of light. He’d known she was powerful- always had, actually. Even when she could barely walk, Aelin’s magic had been a force to be reckoned with. Aedion had been trained to protect it, to  _ guard  _ it. He’d never been taught to guard  _ against it _ though. He’d been helpless in the face of her display, and Aelin had been left defenseless.

 

His cousin lay sprawled out in the ash, faint tendrils of steam still rising off of her body. Aedion had tried to carry her to shelter earlier, but he’d blistered his hands to hell and back trying to move her. The woman burned like a wildfire even when she was out cold. This was unfortunate, as she had burned off the majority of her clothes with the blast of fire. Aedion had tried to preserve her modesty with his cloak, but it had steamed and popped to the point he feared it would roast Aelin alive. He would have to settle for averting his eyes until she cooled down.

 

Were in not for the sweat shining on her brow, Aedion would have almost thought her peacefully asleep. Magic took a huge toll on the user- he knew that, but he’d always thought that the displays would be….  _ Smaller.  _ All the spellcasters back home had been minor, with the exception of Aelin’s parents. Even so, neither adult had displayed even a fraction of the power he’d seen tonight. At least not in front of him, anyways. 

 

_ Is this what you’ve been holding back all this time? _ Aedion wondered, watching as her eyes flickered restlessly underneath her eyelids.  _ Is this what you’ve been trying to hide? _

 

He’d seen the little displays of power at the Eagle’s head- he’d have been a  _ fool _ to miss them- but he’d never even guessed at the heat that lurked underneath Aelin’s pleasant facade. Charred handprints and blackened rags were one thing, but an entire swathe of forest decimated in  _ seconds _ ? That was a whole different story.

 

Aelin’s father had shared her gift, had started teaching her how to harness it.  _ “She can barely walk and she’s got more talent than me!”  _ He’d mused, watching the golden haired toddler giggle embers. “ _ She’ll more than surpass me someday. Aelin will make me  _ proud.”

 

But he’d died not long after, and had left his daughter stranded in a world that hated her very existence. No  _ wonder _ her magic was so volatile. 

 

The general heaved a heavy sigh and pulled out his blade. He bunched what little was left of his tunic together, and swiped it down the length of the steel. It was already spotless, of course, but it was an idle habit that did no harm.

 

Aedion could only thank his lucky stars that whatever force had been pursuing them had sent only the one soldier to ambush them. Any attempt at getting Aelin to safety now would likely end up killing both of them. He’d seriously considered dumping water on her just to cool her down enough to hold, but since he had neither clothes nor cloak to spare, Aedion decided against it.  _ Besides _ , he thought, looking mournfully down at his sleeping cousin.  _ She’ll already be mad enough when she wakes up.  _

 

He swiped the cloth down the sword again. 

 

Aelin had been out for almost an hour and a half now, judging by the position of the stars, and showed no signs of waking. The fog was back in full force, and it made him nervous. Aedion had heard the howling of wolves not too long ago, and he didn’t particularly feel like defying the death god a second time before sunrise. Whatever creatures dwelled in these hellish woods weren’t creatures Aedion was keen on tussling with.

  
  
  


_ Maybe if I wrap my hands in the polishing cloth it will last long enough for me to carry her to shelter? _ It seemed unlikely. He could feel the heat radiating off of her from almost a foot away.  _ She has to cool off eventually, right? No one can radiate  _ that  _ much heat when unconscious forever.  _ Granted, yesterday Aedion hadn’t thought it possible for anyone to generate an explosion like the one Aelin had created. So. He was learning new things all the time.  _ Always expect the unexpected, I guess.  _

 

Speaking of unexpected…..

 

Aedion put down the polishing cloth with a deep sigh. “Whoever you are, I can hear your breathing.” He said, not turning around. “If you were sent here to kill us, you’re doing an awful job at it so far.”

 

Silence, and then- “If I wanted to kill you, you’d both be dead already.” The voice was oddly warped and warbly- as if it didn’t come from a throat used to speaking Common. There was a tone of hurt in it though, as if the speaker was slightly offended. 

 

“You’d be surprised.” Aedion said, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. “I have a way of surprising people.” He swiveled around to face his attacker, bracing himself for whatever was to come.

 

A massive white wolf stood at the boundary between the forest and the clearing. Its golden eyes glinted at Aedion in the moonlight. It looked almost offended. “Just because I  _ could _ kill you doesn’t mean I  _ will. _ ” It said reproachfully.

 

“What.” Aedion said intelligently.

 

The wolf parted its lips in a toothy grin. What looked like fresh blood gleamed on its muzzle. “I just want you to know that I definitely could, though. If i really wanted to.” It said. “Kill you, that is.” Its tongue lolled out of its mouth as it sat back on its haunches.  _ Those feet are probably bigger than my hands. It’s easily the size of a small pony. _ Aedion observed a bit numbly.  _ Hm. _

 

They stared at each other for a bit, the Wolf of the North and the Actual Wolf. “You talk.” Aedion breathed, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

 

“I talk.” The wolf agreed, nodding sensibly. “I talk, and you talk. Its funny how conversation works, isn’t it?” It scratched vigorously at its ear as it spoke.

 

 _I’m talking to a wolf. This is nuts._ _Whatever. You can work with this Aedion. You can roll with it._ The golden haired warrior shook his head slightly, and widened his stance. The wolf noticed, and abandoned its itching in favor of tilting its head curiously. 

 

“Will you kill me?” It asked. There was no reproach in that voice- only curiosity. 

 

“That depends.” Aedion replied. “Are you here to kill us?”

 

The wolf considered it. “Maybe,” it said, rolling the word around on its tongue. “That kind of depends, though.”

 

“Depends on what?”

 

The light glinted wickedly off of those deadly teeth as the wolf smiled. Aedion felt a cold chill run up his spine. “It depends on whether or not my brother slits the throat of your lovely lady friend over there.”

Cold sweat beaded up on Aedion’s brow as he whirled around, his heart in his throat. A dark shadow easily as big as the white wolf behind Aedion stood over Aelin, its white teeth mere inches from her vulnerable throat. A gurgled cry broke out of his throat, and he lunged forward. Before Aedion could move, a heavy paw slammed itself into the small of his back, and he was thrown face first onto the ashy ground.

 

He snarled viciously and tried to squirm forward, reaching desperately towards where his sword had fallen. An incredulous snort sounded from above him, and the weight on his back intensified. “What do you think, Connall?” The white wolf asked, his shadow falling over Aedion’s face. “Is she one of  _ them _ ?”

 

The black wolf-Connall, sniffed deeply, and gave a low snarl. Aedion’s heart gave a weak spasm, and he tried to wheeze out a threat. What ended up coming out, however, was a pathetically desperate whine. Neither the white wolf or Connall paid it any mind. 

 

Connall huffed a deep sigh, and stepped back, his lips wrinkled in a grimace. “No.” he said finally, flicking a dark ear. His silhouette was blurry against the dark sky. He blended in almost perfectly against the scorched environment. Either that, or Aedion was running out of oxygen. He couldn’t really tell. Dark spots danced in his vision.

 

“Neither is this one.” The white wolf said, leaning some of his weight off of Aedion’s back. Aeidon gratefully gulped in some air, and the white blur above him looked down. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to choke you out.” It actually sounded apologetic. Aedion was still gonna kick its furry ass, though.

 

“You shouldn’t talk to strangers so familiarly, Fenrys.” Connall said in disgust. “You should know better.”

 

“I  _ do _ know better!” Fenrys retorted, his weight leaving Aedion entirely now. “You’re just no fun to talk to.” With his lungs functioning properly now, Aedion tried to stealthily reach towards his blade. If he could just-

 

Connall made a disgusted noise, and batted away Aedion’s questing hand with a massive paw. The wolf pushed away his blade with a dark snout. “None of that.” Connall said dismissively. “I could still decide to take your head off.”

 

His head spinning, Aedion staggered to his feet. “You could  _ try. _ ” He snarled, and raised his fists. If a wolf could look impressed, Connall did. A chunk of golden hair fell into his face, and Aedion tucked it behind his ear with a grimy hand.

 

Connall’s eyes widened, and Fenrys made a faint noise of recognition from somewhere behind him. “I knew he smelled familiar.” Fenrys said, sounding smug.

 

“Shut it.” Connall hissed, flattening his ears against this skull. He turned his attention fully to Aedion. “You’re a demi-fae, then boy. Where do you come from?”

 

“Why should I tell you?” Aedion growled, squaring up his fists. His heritage had long been a sore point, and he didn’t particularly feel like spouting his family tree off to a pair of talking wolves. Connall made an exasperated noise and exposed his teeth. With a start, Aedion belatedly realized just where Connall stood, and whose neck was really at risk. He lowered his hands. 

 

“Good.” The black wolf said, his snarl fading. “Shall we start over?”

 

Aedion gave the wolf his best glower. “Adarlan.” He said sullenly. The wolf gave him a withering look. “Terrasen.” Aedion relented quietly. “I’m from Terrasen.”

 

“ _ Ah _ .” Fenrys said, as if that explained it all. 

 

“And her?” Connall asked, motioning with his snout to where Aelin still lay prone. If the wolf hadn’t stood so close to his ward, Aedion would have throttled him. Nosy asshole.

 

“She’s my cousin.” Aedion said, bunching up his fists. Connall pricked up his ears in interest. “Cousin…” He mused. He lowered his snout and snuffled at Aelin again. 

 

“She smells like fire.” He said. From the corner of his eye, Aedion noticed Fenrys slink towards his darker brother. For an animal as white and reflective as snow, he was remarkably stealthy. 

 

“The explosion earlier?” Connall asked his brother, and Fenrys nodded in confirmation. “Must have been.” The white wolf said. “Since it definitely wasn’t  _ him _ .”  He jerked his snout in Aedion’s direction as he spoke. Something must have grabbed the wolf’s attention, though, because suddenly Fenrys’ face was right up against the ground, his nose snuffling in the ashes.

After a moment of hesitation, Connall lowered his head too, his head bumping up against his brother’s. They sniffed in quiet tandem for a few moments, while Aedion watched with bated breath.

 

“Find anything interesting?” He finally asked, tired of being left out. “We’re kind of in a hurry here so if you could-”

 

“You didn’t  _ seem _ to be in any hurry earlier.” Fenrys said accusingly, lifting his head just enough to stare Aedion down. Though his head was still down, Connall’s ears pricked up. “I was……  _ waiting _ .. For something.” Aedion said lamely, the tips of his ears burning.

 

“I’m sure.” Fenrys said reassuringly. He pulled his nose up from the dirt and sat back. “Since I don’t feel like clogging my lungs with ash, would you mind saving us some time and answering a question or two?”

 

“I don't’ really have much of a choice here, do I?” Aedion asked, with a raised eyebrow. Maybe if he just let them ask  _ whatever  _ they’d leave him and Aelin to their business.  _ Eventually. _

 

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a large hunting party hereabouts, would you?” Once again, Aedion’s attention was drawn to the matted blood that adorned Fenry’s pale fur. He swallowed nervously.

 

Connall’s dark head popped up next to his brother’s. Now that he looked, Aedion could see the dark droplets of  _ something _ gleaming on Connall’s muzzle. “What if I did?” The warrior answered, trying to shift himself in the general direction of his discarded sword.

 

With a flick of his ears that showed he knew  _ exactly  _ what Aedion was trying to do, Fenrys lifted his upper lip slightly. “Whatever the things in that hunting party were, they weren’t human. We tracked and eliminated almost all of them.”

 

Aedion had a feeling he knew where this was going. “Almost?”

 

“Almost.” Connall confirmed. “All but  _ one. _ We need to know where he went so we can finish the job. If you know anything.  _ Anything _ about his location, you will tell us.” They didn’t enforce the unheard  _ or else  _ through snarls or curled lips. They didn't’  _ need  _ to. The sheer menace in their voices was enough.

 

It was a close thing, but Aedion managed to not heave a sigh of relief. “In that case you’ll be happy to know we took care of him.” He said, and allowed his posture to relax slightly. “If you’re looking for the ring, I smashed it with the hilt of my sword.”

“Good.” Connall said, and sat down. 

 

Aedion fidgeted a little. 

 

Neither wolf seemed terribly inclined to move. On the contrary, Fenrys actually began to groom himself, nibbling bits of what Aedion could only assume was once a soldier out from between his toes. Aedion cleared his throat.

 

Both pairs of golden eyes snapped to his face. 

 

“Yes?” Connall asked.

 

“Can we…. Uh… Are we allowed to go?” Aedion asked, motioning slightly to the left. He hoped the urgency in his tone was properly conveyed.

 

“Go where?” Fenrys asked, lifting his head from his feet. “There’s nothing for miles around.”

 

“Somewhere.” Aedion said lamely. “Anywhere but here.” He lowered his arms again. Yellow eyes blinked lazily at him, and Fenrys yawned, exposing a frankly ridiculous amount of ivory teeth. Aedion gritted his teeth and wished them both ill. Even if the two had saved him and Aelin the trouble of evading a horde of probable monsters, they didn’t seem to know when to piss off. That, and they were asking too many questions.  _ Nosy bastards. _

 

“Stop thinking bad thoughts.” Fenrys advised. “I can practically hear the cogs turning in your little demi-fae brain.” A muscle in Aedion’s jaw twitched.

 

“It makes you smell suspicious.” Connall added. “Not really a good thing when you think about how good our noses are. Besides,” The black wolf continued. “You and your cousin here aren’t going anywhere.”

 

“And why not?” Aedion demanded, balling his fists. A churning unease settled into his gut. “We’re not one of them. One of the  _ monsters  _ that you killed. We’re  _ human!”  _ The lie felt thick on his tongue as he spoke. Aedion knew that he didn’t fit the term, and honestly, after what he’d seen earlier tonight, he wasn’t sure it fit Aelin either.

 

“We have things to discuss with you,  _ demi-fae _ .” Connall said, his teeth gleaming. “You may not know your heritage, but we do. And that makes you  _ our  _ business. You  _ and  _ your frighteningly powerful cousin.” With a brusque shake, the black wolf rose to his feet and gave Aedion a meaningful glance. “It’s obvious that the party we hunted down was tracking you.”

 

“And it's just as obvious that more parties will be sent afterwards.” Fenrys added, slinking up behind Aedion. “It’s in our best interests to keep you alive.” Aedion started at that, but Fenrys barreled on anyways. “ _ Both  _ of you, so stop talking before you say something stupid and inspire me to leave you behind.”

 

Connall gave a deep sigh and turned his glittering eyes towards Aedion. “What my brother is  _ trying  _ to say is that we are offering you protection. A safe haven, of sorts.” He turned those unnerving eyes towards Aelin. “And a teacher. This woman’s magic is untamed, and if left alone will likely consume both her and those around her.”

 

“It would definitely come back to bite us in the ass if we left her here, is what he’s trying to say.” Fenrys added. 

Aedion’s head spun. He’d been assaulted, burned, stepped on and threatened all in the span of several hours, and now he was being offered a safe haven by  _ talking wolves. _ He didn’t really know what to think anymore. “Fine, whatever,  _ yeah.”  _ Aedion said and threw his hands in the air. “It’s not like we have a better option. I will warn you though,” he said ominously, “That when my cousin wakes up she won’t be happy. At all.”

 

“We’ll deal with that when we get to it.” Connall said calmly. “Now, however, I need to ask a favor of you.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I will  _ uh _ …. Carry your cousin as we go but…” The black wolf’s hackles rose slightly, and if Aedion didn’t know any better, he’d say the wolf looked  _ embarrassed _ . “I don’t have hands.”

 

While Aedion stared, Fenrys burst into unabashed, ugly laughter that echoed through the dark woods.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hghhhfh these brothers are MINE now MINE YOU HEAR?

It had taken some pretty skillful maneuvering on Aedion’s part to hoist his unconscious cousin onto Connall’s back  _ and  _ keep her dignity intact, but he’d done it. 

 

Though steam still rose off of Aelin’s body, Connall showed no signs of discomfort as she was  _ gently  _ slung across his wide back. She’d cooled considerably since the wolves had first shown up - enough to cover, at least, but prolonged exposure to Aelin’s feverish skin was still probably hell to endure. 

 

“You’ll probably have to secure her with your cloak.” Fenrys said from somewhere behind Aedion. “Clever, kind and gracious as we are, we wolves can’t help the fact that we don’t have opposable thumbs or arms. She’ll slip if not secured.” There was barely restrained mirth in Fenrys’ voice- and judging by the dark look Connall was shooting his brother- there was definitely some kind of joke here that Aedion wasn’t getting.

 

Which was fine. Talking wolves was one thing, but talking wolves with a sense of humor? Aedion could only stomach so much nonsense in one day. “Sure.” He said evenly, keeping his less than savory thoughts to himself. He bundled up his cloak between his hands. “What works for you?”

 

Connall’s ears flicked backwards again, and he curled his upper lip slightly. The fur along his spine lifted slightly. Aedion raised his eyebrows. “Was I not supposed to ask?” Fenry’s dry, barking laugh split the night air again, and Connall snarled viciously at the sound of it. Aedion’s head spun a little. Had he broken some kind of cardinal wolf rule? 

 

“Are you gonna say it?” The white wolf asked gleefully, padding into Aedion’s field of view. “Because I’m not going to.”  His mouth was stretched into a wolfish smile, the blood staining his white fur turning the expression wicked. Aedion swallowed, and tried not to let his discomfort show. The wolves seemed not to notice- or if they did, they gave no sign. In fact, it seemed almost as if they had forgotten his existence.

 

In an odd sort of way, it reminded Aedion of an old friend of his. The bickering. It was almost……. Familiar.  _ Familiar and  _ annoying. The golden haired warrior amended, his brow furrowing.

 

A silent battle of wills waged between the brothers, the only sign of struggle being the flickering in their bright eyes. Resigned to waiting it out, Aedion let the cloak dangle to the ground with a sigh. He knew from personal experience that talking would get him absolutely nowhere.

 

He settled in for the long haul.

 

Connall caved first. “Fine!  _ Fine!”  _ He snapped, dancing in place. Aelin wobbled precariously on his sleek back. “Like a packhorse! Think saddlebags. On a  _ horse. _ Are you happy now?” The last part was snarled in Fenry’s direction.

 

“More and more so every second.” The white wolf replied, looking positively radiant. He licked his chops smugly.

 

The corner of Aedion’s mouth twitched slightly. _It_ is _kind of funny, if you think about it._ _._ He thought, unsheathing his sword. He set to work shredding the fabric in his hands into useable ribbons as Fenrys watched. Connall had turned his back to both his brother and Aedion, deep in sulk territory. _If Aelin was awake to see this, she’d never be able to complain about my ego ever again._

 

_ You’d be no better than him, if in the same situation,  _ a voice that sounded suspiciously like Aelin’s chided in his head. And yeah,  _ maybe,  _ but it sure as hell didn’t stop him from finding it funny now.

 

Cloak finally shredded, Aedion made his way over to Connall. Funny how any caution he might have shown around the massive animal had faded in the face of humor. Connall lifted his upper lip in distaste as he approached, but the sight was no threat to Aedion.

 

Indeed, the dark wolf held remarkably still as Aedion worked, looping ribbon after ribbon around, under and inbetween. It had been  _ years  _ since Aedion had had to fashion something like this from scratch, but the memory still remained. It helped that Connall was  _ much  _ more forgiving than the squealing warhorse Aedion had first experimented on. He also bit less.

 

It took more time than Aedion was really comfortable with, but sturdy knots and tethers slowly began to take shape underneath his fingers. Thank whatever god lurked above that Aedion’s mentor had seen fit to teach him about tying proper knots.

 

With a final sigh, Aedion stepped back to admire his handiwork. It was little more than a tangle of dark fabric in darker fur, but it would hold. For now. “You probably shouldn’t run in it.” Aedion advised, watching as Connall’s dark head swivelled around to get a closer look at the makeshift harness. 

 

“If i had proper lips, I’d whistle.” Fenrys said in admiration, padding forwards to sniff at Connall’s new accessory. The white wolf immediately recoiled, though.  “You’ll smell like shit for days to come though,” he said mournfully to his brother, snout wrinkling. “I don’t think this cloak’s ever been cleaned.”

 

“I’ve washed it!” Aedion bristled. 

 

Both Fenrys and Connall shot  him matching doubtful looks.

 

“I have!” The warrior insisted, a faint warmth spreading on his cheeks. The wolves straight up ignored him, choosing instead to slowly make their way towards a nearly-invisible game trail at the edge of the ruined clearing. As Connall’s dark body disappeared into the inky blackness, Fenrys paused to stare at Aedion. “Are you coming? Or do I have to carry you too?” The white wolf asked in exhasperation.

 

Jolted out of his daze, Aedion scuttled over. “Sorry.” He said sheepishly. 

 

“It happens to the best of us.” Fenrys said wisely, his tail swishing. “And the worst.”

 

The two walked side by side for a bit in amicable silence. Ahead of them was Connall, distinguished from his surroundings only by the telltale glint of golden hair on his back. 

 

“You never told me where we’re going.” Aedion observed, eyes sliding towards Fenrys. The white wolf flicked an ear.

 

“No, I didn’t.”

 

“Feel like sharing?” The former general prodded, strongly resisting the urge to elbow the white beast. Friendly jabs between humans were one thing- jostles between man and pony-sized wolf? Definitely not.

 

“Not really.” Fenrys said. “Besides, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” The wolf’s eyes were firmly fixed on his brother ahead. There was steel in his tone. 

 

The trees loomed overhead, casting flickering shadows on the faint trail ahead of them that grew stronger with each passing footstep. Dawn was breaking, and whichever trail they wandered was certainly friendlier than the forest paths bordering Yarrin. Where they had once seemed imposing and almost  _ cruel _ , the branches now stretched out in welcome. The breeze was warm between the tree trunks. Funny how a bit of companionship could change one’s outlook.   _ Even if the companions in question happen to be a pair of talking wolves. _

 

_ Companions for  _ now. Aedion firmly reminded himself, shaking his head. As friendly as Fenrys and Con-. As friendly as  _ Fenrys  _ seemed at the moment, there was no telling how long the wolf’s good humor would last. Even if they offered safety, it would probably come at a cost.  _ There is always a cost,  _ Aelin’s voice whispered in his ear.

 

“You smell nervous.” Fenrys said reproachfully. Aedion jumped a little. 

 

“Would you stop doing that?” He hissed, rubbing his shoulders. Fenrys tilted his head to the side, his golden eyes gleaming. “Stop what?”

 

_ Talking. _ Aedion wanted to say. But of course he couldn’t say that. So instead; “Being nosy.” He sniffed. “People don’t exactly  _ like  _ having their every emotion out in the open, you know?”

 

“No.” Fenrys said bluntly. “I don’t know. I can’t really  _ help _ what my nose picks out.” He didn’t sound apologetic in the least. Aedion supposed he really didn’t  have a reason to, anyways. The wolf looked up at Aedion. “Have you tried not smelling so….  _ Transparent _ ?”

 

At a loss for words, the warrior merely shook his head. “I uh, haven’t really found it a problem before now.”

 

“Then there’s your answer.” Fenrys said. He tilted his head, considering. “But I guess you’ve never had to worry about it before. Your senses are probably superior among humans.”

 

“The sniffer becomes the sniffed.” Aedion agreed darkly. If he and Aelin were going to spend any great amount of time around these two brothers, they’d have to learn how to school their emotions properly. Or at least Aedion would. Aelin was probably already a master at it, sneaky savant that she was. 

 

Deep in thought as he was, Aedion almost missed the first few cobblestones hidden amongst the grassy patches in the path. 

 

“Watch your step.” Connall called out from up ahead, his golden eyes shining eerily in the faint beams of the oncoming dawn. The rolling fog caught the light, and scattered a myriad of tiny rainbows across Connall’s dark fur. For a moment, the wolf shone bright as a fallen star as the dewdrops in his fur glistened.

 

It was a vision straight out of Aelin’s treasured storybooks.

 

Aedion’s vision spotted as his foot collided solidly with a rock. He swore explosively, and the moment was lost. He sat down with a  _ whump. _

 

Connall melted back into the darkness. 

 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Fenrys asked, butting his large head into Aedion’s personal bubble. Thought the voice was laced with amusement, the offer seemed genuine enough.

 

“I’m starting to think that you  _ want  _ to carry me.” Aedion gritted out from between clenched teeth. Fenrys only hummed, an odd, raspy sound.

 

Aedion massaged his aching toe through his boot. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have taken off the leather shoe. However, with his own prenatural sense of smell combined with that of the wolves, the unholy scent contained within could potentially prove devastating.  _ Death by stink bomb! What a way to go. _ Aedion thought in grim amusement. _ Maybe something to consider for later? _

 

He heaved himself to his feet with a heavy sigh. “How much further?” Aedion asked, hoping that this wouldn’t proc whatever secrecy alarm Fenrys had going. The white wolf cocked his head, peering up towards the sky and said; “Not far.” Aedion followed his gazeand strained his vision to catch a glimpse of whatever had signaled Fenrys.

 

All that caught his attention was a lone raptor circling high above and an oddly shaped cloud.

 

_ Whatever. _ He thought, and plodded onwards. Aedion was honestly too tired to be properly suspicious of birds and wisps of vapor. Fenrys stayed behind for a moment longer, his eye trained on the distant sky. 

 

“Don’t think I won’t leave you behind.” Connall’s voice drifted back towards his brother from within the dense treeline. Fenrys jerked back to attention, and bristled.

 

“You couldn’t lose me if you tried.” Fenrys replied confidently, but took a few bounding steps along the cobbled path all the same. 

 

Connall and Aedion stood waiting just within the border of the trees. As soon as Fenrys slipped between the thick tree trunks, Connall set off again. With a flash of irritation, the Wolf of The North jogged after his dark furred companion. Determined not to lose the wolf or his cousin this time, Aedion kept pace. “How is she?” He asked. 

 

“She sleeps on.” Connall replied bluntly. “And will continue to do so for some time.”

 

Aedion waited for him to continue, but the dark wolf seemed disinclined to elaborate. He gritted his teeth. A hot puff of air on his left side signaled the arrival of Fenrys. “Can  _ you _ explain?” Aedion asked, irritation snapping in his tone.

 

“Only if you ask nicely.” Fenrys replied with a snap of his teeth. A warning.

 

A headache began building in Aedion’s temple. “ _ Ple _ -”

 

“We’re here.” Connall interrupted, halting mid stride. Aedion’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. 

 

Ahead of the black wolf stretched an empty stone pavilion, ringed on all sides by what Aedion could only assume had once been houses. Well,  _ house  _ was perhaps a generous term. Sagged and crumbling, the structures more closely resembled piles of rubble. 

 

From the center of the plaza, a massive oak tree had sprouted from underneath the stone pathways. Wherever its roots surfaced, brick and mortar crumbled. It had clearly taken seed centuries ago. The early morning sunlight streamed through its vibrant green leaves, dappling the three travelers with a shifting pattern. It was a stark contrast to the eerie evergreen forests that lay behind them, and Aedion welcomed the change.

 

From behind the shifting branches, Aedion could just barely begin to make out the outline of what looked to be a massive  _ intact  _ structure. Annoyingly enough, however, as soon as he thought he’d had a good grasp on the shape, the leaves would shift and he’d have to find a new vantage point. He squinted to try to get a better view. 

 

A soft nudge from Fenrys brought Aedion back to clear focus. The white wolf’s hackles were up, and he stared ahead with intent focus. “Our liege approaches.” He said softly. 

 

An eerie chill wind blew through the plaza. No leaves shivered in its wake. Aedion shivered, and felt the brush of warm fur against his arm. He looked over to find Connall flanking him on the left. On his back, Aelin slumbered unmoved. Comfortably, even. “You would be wise to watch your mouth from hereon out.” Connall murmured. “You will find that our master has much less tolerance for lip than we do. Should you still wish for our offered protection, you had best tread carefully.”

 

Aedion shuddered. To command such beings as Fenrys and Connall- what kind of creature must their leader be?

 

The wind blew again, bringing the frost-bitten smell of Staghorn winter nights along with it. Despite the warm morning breeze, Aedion felt chilled to the bone.

 

With a movement as smooth and soft as silk, Fenrys and Connall slid their bodies to the ground in the closest approximation of a bow a wolf could manage. Aelin slid forwards slightly as her mount moved, but Aedion’s restraints held firm. 

 

In the gap between one second and the next, Aedion felt him.

 

A power as ancient and vast as the very earth itself shuddered into reality as the foreign prince made himself known. How Aedion hadn’t sensed him earlier- smelled him, he didn’t know. The scent of magic clouded his nostrils and fogged his brain.  _ Unmistakable. _

 

The sharp scream of wind through feathers reached Aedion’s ears merely seconds before the beast himself alighted on the ground, his mighty wings spread wide.  _ Not a bird Fenrys had been seeing earlier, then _ . Aedion realized, his mouth going terribly dry.  _ A lord. Their master. _

 

A creature as tall, if not taller, than Aedion himself stood before the northern general. Where normally there would be skin, an array of gleaming grey feathers coated the prince’s body. Corded muscle rippled beneath those feathers. From behind the prince’s back arched a pair of proud, massive wings. Longer than Aedion was tall, they fanned in the breeze. Every feather- from the primaries to the coverts- was attuned to the faintest whispers in the wind. 

 

As far as the upper body was concerned, the creature was almost human, save for the downy coating of feathers. Beyond that, though, he was foreign.  _ Alien. _

 

Past the elbow, the feathers coating the beast’s body thinned to become dark-grey scales. Where there would normally be fingers and a hand, there was instead the wicked, cruel talons of a bird of prey. His feet, too, were curved and vicious. Those were claws that could shred skin like butter.

 

The clumping of feathers around the creature’s neck were mottled, a mixed patina of monochromatic elegance. Somewhere along the line, silver feathers blended into silver hair. Too short to tie up, but long enough to move with the breeze. A pair of tufted ears sprouted from either side of that cold face, twitching with even the slightest of noises.

 

Most foreign of all though, were his eyes. Cold and glittering, they were the eyes of an ancient, wild thing. Hollowed out and hungry they were, with dark circles etched into near permanence beneath them. Dark scales were spattered there, too, patterning from underneath up onto high, proud cheekbones. A pair of pale, human lips rested beneath what seemed to be more beak than nose.

 

Those cold green eyes slid down to Fenrys, then to Connall, and lingered there. Lingered upon the burden the dark wolf bore. Aedion’s blood seemed to freeze.

 

Adressing the pair before him, the creature spoke. Unlike Fenry’s trickling rasp, the prince’s voice was a rumbling avalanche. A promise of death to come. “What do you bring me today?” He asked.

 

“I bring the answer.” Connall said simply.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consistent writing style? I don't know her.

 

Aelin woke with what felt like a brain full of angry hornets.

 

She slid upright with a throaty groan, and pressed a hand to her aching temple. “What the hell  _ happened?”  _ The blonde groused, massaging her brow with heavy fingers. Her head was swimming- memories were blurred and fuzzy, mixing unreliably with emotions.  _ Did I lose some kind of a bar fight? _

 

_ No, _ Aelin decided, smacking her lips together a few times.  _ Not a bar fight. I’m not hungover. I  _ think. Sifting through her symptoms was an old routine- one Arobynn had drilled into all of his assassins relentlessly. Poison was a constant danger in the trade, after all. 

 

_ Breathing normal, body temperature normal, heart rate….. Slightly elevated, but beating steadily.  _ Aelin checked herself over bit by bit, pinching and pressing every point that could be a giveaway. As she worked, she tried stitching together bits and pieces of the fragmented memories swimming around her head.

 

The Eagle’s Head, she remembered, at least. Working as a barmaid. The familiar texture of a mug between her palms. Aelin stared down at her callouses, focusing. Fresh blisters had popped up along her palms.  She and Aedion-

 

_ Aedion. _

 

Suddenly, the memories came rushing back. The Eagle’s Head, Aedion, the assassins- all of it came back into focus so quickly it almost hurt.  _ The demon! _ Aelin remembered with a start.  _ It was- I was-! _

 

_ I burned it. _ The demon’s hand, ghostly and pale drawing ever closer to her neck. She remembered its black,  _ black  _ eyes and how it had spoken Aedion’s name.  _ Princekiller _ . It had said. There had been an all-consuming hunger in its eyes. Aelin had annihilated it. She had completely unleashed that raging pressure that had been building up behind her breast for all of these months. And Aedion-

 

Aedion had been right in the middle of that blast. 

 

Suddenly way too hot, Aelin flung off the blanket that had been covering her and flew to her feet. The room she was in was stone from floor to ceiling, with only a small barred window for fresh air to flow through. Where normally a door would be, iron bars blockaded the exit. Outside the cell, there was what looked to be a bucket of water with a rag hanging over the edge. For some reason, the bars seemed to exude an unpleasant aura. Aelin had the feeling that if she went to rattle them, it would hurt. She rubbed her hands unconsciously. 

 

“Aedion?” She hissed quietly, not wanting to alert whatever- or  _ whoever _ \- it was that had put her in the cell in the first place. Hopefully her cousin was nearby. If her captor(s) had kept her alive.. Then surely,  _ hopefully _ Aedion would have received the same treatment. Something on the other side of her wall rustled. Her heart leapt into her throat. 

“Aelin?” Her cousin’s- for that was definitely Aedion’s voice- drifted through the bars. Aelin loosed a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. “Thank the gods.” She said, sitting back down onto the bed. The springs creaked ominously as she moved.  “Are you alright?”

 

“That’s supposed to be  _ my  _ line.” Aedion said evasively. “But I’m not important, We’re safe, and that’s all that matters to me. How are  _ you? _ ”

 

“Alive, but barely,” Aelin groaned, flopping backwards. Aedion had said they were safe, and Aelin trusted his word. Escape could come later, rest and recovery could come first. “My head feels like someone’s taken a sledgehammer to it.”

 

Aedion hummed, the sound muffled through the thick stone wall. “That’s kind of understandable, though.” He said. “You did kind of just blow six months worth of magical energy.”

 

_ Ah. Right. _ Aelin had almost forgotten about that. “I didn’t mean to, you know.” She said, leaning up against Aedion’s wall. The oversized shirt she was dressed in was threadbare and more than a little ratty- but it was probably better than whatever she’d been dressed in earlier. The thin fabric was cold up against the damp stone, but it felt nice against her overheated skin. 

 

“The magic?”

 

“Yeah.” Aelin hummed, staring at her calloused fingers. “It just…  _ happened.”  _ One moment she’d been watching her death reach towards her with deathly pale hands and the next- “Boom.” She mimicked an explosion with her hands.

 

“Kaplow.” Aedion agreed. The blonde assassin twiddled her thumbs for a few moments, watching a spider weave its way in between the bars of the window.  As far as cells went, this one was definitely cushy. Aelin noticed. She had both seen and  _ been in  _ far worse. This was practically luxury living as far as she was concerned. 

 

That didn’t mean that she wanted to  _ stay  _ in it though.

 

The distant sound of a chirping bird drifted in from the world outside.

 

Aedion broke the silence first with a cough. “You’ll probably want to know that you’ve been asleep for three days.” He began, rustling with something in his own cell.  Aelin swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Three  _ days _ ? I’ve been out for  _ three whole days?”  _ She rasped, her fists clenched. “Three days and no one bothered to wake me up?”

 

“I tried,” Aedion said apologetically. “Several times actually. It was like trying to wake up a stone, Aelin. You were  _ gone. _ ” 

 

Aelin fell silent to consider. 

 

An awkward sort of tension bridged bridged between the cousins. Magic was an elephant in the room on a  _ good  _ day… But now? It was a whale. A giant. A dragon. Something entirely too big to ignore. 

 

“Father warned me about this once.” Aelin said quietly. “Overusing my powers. He said that not knowing one’s boundaries could wipe out even the strongest of magic users.” Her throat constricted slightly. Aelin’s father was a sensitive topic, and one that she rarely ever breached. Memories tended to bring on unwanted emotions, and Aelin had never been good with  _ feelings _ . Not since Arobynn, anyways.

 

Aedion, bless him, seemed to sense Aelin’s discomfort. He probably knew better than to let her wallow in her own thoughts. “I wouldn’t know.” He said regretfully. “I never really paid attention to what your father taught you. I’m starting to regret it now, though.”

 

A fond smile crept across Aelin’s face. “You were always too busy with your sword to ever focus on using your head.”  There was an offended kind of snort from Aedion’s wall, but he didn’t argue it.  _ He must feel bad about the blowout thing. _ Aelin realized.  _ Always trying to take responsibility for things that weren’t his fault. Good to know he hasn’t changed. _

 

She would have said more on the topic, but the soft padding of feet interrupted Aelin’s train of thought. A white wolf easily as tall as Aelin herself had seemingly materialized in front of her cell door and was gazing at her with bright eyes. 

 

_ Big.  _ Was all Aelin’s brain managed to produce as it struggled to process. God, those feet were practically the size of  _ dinner plates. _ The old books back in Terrasen had mentioned the wolf tribe of the north, and their massive mounts, but never before had Aelin given the stories any credit. That was  _ definitely _ her bad.  _ I guess Aedion isn’t the only one at fault for not paying attention to history lessons. _

 

“Ah, Fenrys.” Aedion said in greeting, seemingly unruffled by their visitor. “Good morning.”

 

“It’s afternoon, but it’s the thought that counts.” The wolf- Fenrys, said pleasantly. He turned his massive head towards Aelin. “You didn’t tell me that our friend here had rejoined us here in the land of the living.” Those bright golden eyes slid away from Aelin’s face towards what was presumably Aedion’s cell. They looked almost  _ accusing _ .

Aedion snorted. “You figured it out on your own didn’t you? Besides. How was I supposed to tell you? I’m stuck in a cell, in case you didn’t notice.”

 

The wolf’s tail flagged slightly. “You could have  _ tried.”  _ He grumbled. “Do you know how much flak Connall will give me when he comes back if he hears that I wasn’t even  _ around  _ for sleeping beauty’s wakeup? So much, Aedion. So much flak.”

 

The assassin’s head spun as they spoke. From the sound of it, this Fenrys didn’t seem to be a danger to either herself or Aedion. Clearly her cousin trusted the wolf enough to engage in friendly ribbing, and vice versa.  _ How much did I miss while I was asleep?  _ She wondered in mild despair.  _ First humanoid monsters and now talking wolves. What’s next? _

 

“The flak Connall does or doesn’t give you isn’t a worry of mine.” Aedion said breezily. Aelin could practically  _ feel  _ the dismissive wave of his hands. “Besides, I haven’t seen or heard from him since the first day.”

 

Feeling left out and desperately confused, Aelin opened her mouth to speak, but hopes of conversation were flattened as Fenrys spoke on. “He’s been out with Vaughan and Gavriel these past few days.” The wolf said, sitting back on his haunches. “Something  _ odd  _ has been skirting our borders these past few days, and they were sent off to solve the problem. It could be something left over from your hunting party and..  _ Well.  _ We can’t have any of that lurking around here, can we?” Fenrys smiled, exposing distressingly long fangs. 

 

Before either male could continue, Aelin cleared her throat. “Yes. Hi,  _ hello _ .” She said, waving an annoyed hand. “As much fun as I’m having listening to you two gossip like old wives, I have a few questions to ask.” She placed her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow, well aware that her current state of dress probably detracted from the aura of poise she was trying to exude. 

 

Fenrys turned his massive head towards Aelin and licked his chops. “Apologies,” he said, his ears flicking slightly. “I didn’t mean to talk over you like that, miss-?”

 

“Aelin.” Aelin said, jutting her chin out stubbornly.  _ No sense maintaining a ruse here, I guess. The wolf would probably sniff out the lie anyways.  _ Fenrys nodded in approval.

 

“How nice of you to give me your true name right away.” He said, wagging his tail slightly. “You know better than to try to lie to me and my nose.” Something like a smug grin crept across his face. It was an unsettling thing to see a pony-sized canine grin, but Fenrys somehow managed to make it into an appealing expression. A grumble leaked through Aedion’s cell as the white wolf spoke, and Aelin smothered a smile beneath a scarred hand despite herself.  _ So he tried and got sniffed out. _

 

The smile on Fenry’s face vanished quickly, though. “Now that you’re awake, I’m under strict orders to bring you to the lord of our castle.” He said. “He wished to be informed as soon as you were no longer asleep.” He padded up to the metal rods in front of Aeidon, and pressed his snout up against the bars. With a click and a hiss, the metal melted to form a door-shaped gap in the bars. 

 

As Aedion ducked out through the opening, Fenrys turned his gaze back to Aelin. “Will you behave?” He asked, obviously taking the earlier magical burst into account.  _ I don’t think I could summon an ember if I tried. _ Aelin thought to herself, her head still pounding, but nodded anyways. “Scout’s honor.” She said.

 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Fenrys said, and pressed his nose to her bars with a poorly concealed grimace. Good to know that she wasn’t the only one adversely affected, Aelin supposed. She watched in fascination as the metal seemed to liquify and disappear into the cobbled floor below. Before long, another door shaped gap had appeared in front of her. 

Fenrys backed away from the makeshift door, and positioned himself right by the top of the stairs. “Whenever you’re ready.” He said, gesturing down into the dark stairwell with his snout. 

 

Rubbing her wrists, Aelin stepped out from the cell towards Aedion. Though he’d shaved right before leaving Yarrin, a fairly impressive start to a beard was sprouting on his cheeks. Dark circles were in place underneath his eyes, but the smile he shot her was was genuine. 

 

“I’m glad you’re alright.” Aelin said, and pulled her behemoth of a cousin in for a hug. Since Aelin reached up to maybe his shoulder, it was more her trying to wrap her arms around his frankly ridiculously thick torso. Aedion’s calloused hands gripped the back of Aelin’s shirt as he returned the gesture. “That’s my line.” He said roughly, giving her a hefty pat on the back before backing away. His Ashryver eyes were lined with silver. “At some point our luck is going to run out, you know.”

 

Aelin’s eyes watered. Though she shared the sentiment, the reason behind the blurring of her eyes wasn’t emotion. No. The Wolf of the North was so tall that Aelin was actually distressingly close to armpit level, and  _ hoo boy _ did her cousin need a bath. Or two. Or  _ twelve.  _ A shared glance with Fenrys showed that the wolf shared her opinion. His lips were actually slightly wrinkled.

 

“As touching as this reunion is,” Fenrys interrupted, rising back up to his full height. “We need to be on our way. The lord is expecting us.”

 

Aelin untangled herself from Aedion’s embrace, sniffling. “How does he know already? I just woke up, and you’re the only one up here that I’ve seen.” Talking beasts were bad enough, but an omnipotent guardian? That was just ridiculous.  

 

The white wolf sniffed in disdain. “The other companion of mine-Lorcan- is a nosy  _ bitch _ .” He said scathingly. “Since he can’t get up the stairs he’s probably been camped at the bottom with his ears pressed up against the door. Believe me when I say that our lord is  _ well informed. _ ” Fenrys actually snarled the last sentence, his white fangs glistening. Clearly he wasn’t exactly…  _ Fond  _ of this Lorcan fellow.  Aelin tucked the information away for later, considering.

 

_ Wait. _

 

Halfway to the stairwell, Aelin paused. “I can’t go see your master looking like  _ this!”  _ She exclaimed, suddenly remembering her stained and ratty wardrobe situation. Of course she’d worn worse- but not in situations like  _ this.  _

 

Fenrys, the bastard, had the nerve to laugh. It was an odd, throaty sound that bordered on uncomfortable. Even Aedion stifled a chuckle. Aelin shot him a dirty look. “Just because  _ you’re  _ used to dressing like a ruffian doesn’t make you exempt! You look awful too!” She hissed, moving to elbow him sharply in the ribs. 

 

“The difference between us, dear cousin,” Aedion drawled. “Is that I don’t  _ care  _ how I look. It’s my  _ actions _ that matter.”  He shared a glance with Fenrys. “Besides, I get the feeling that our mysterious benefactor doesn’t actually care about appearances.”

 

Fenrys wound his way between the cousins, and pushed his muzzle into the small of Aelin’s back, nudging her forward. “You’ll get the chance to clean up.” He assured her. “If only because the prince has a sensitive nose, and you both reek.”

 

Aelin allowed herself to be pushed towards the stairwell, her mind spinning. “Is he… like  _ you?” _

 

“No.” Aedion said, and Aelin stopped dead in her tracks, causing Fenry’s paws to clatter unevenly on the ground. “No?” She asked.  _ When did Aedion meet with the leader? _

 

“No.” Her cousin confirmed, his face set in a neutral mask as passed Fenrys and descended the staircase. “He’s  _ worse _ .”

 

\--------------------------

 

As Fenrys had promised, Aelin was given the chance to clean off. He’d all but shoved her into a bathing room, Aedion’s muffled protests leaking in from underneath the closed door.

 

She’d blinked in confusion for a couple seconds, but the grime underneath her fingernails compelled her to head for the four-footed tub that occupied a good portion of the tiled room.

 

Ignoring the travesty that would probably greet her in the mirror, Aelin barrelled quickly past it. Vanity could wait.  _ You’ll only have a couple minutes at most _ . Fenrys had said on the way down. _ Since your cousin also needs a thorough scrubbing and we’re on a time crunch.  _ She turned the knobs up to full, and watched as the faucet sputtered for a moment, before spitting out a torrent of steaming water.  _ I guess this bathroom isn’t used much. _ Aelin observed, eying the cobwebs on the bath curtains in distaste.  _ That being said, I haven’t seen so much as a hair from any other person yet. _ Everything that Aelin had passed on the way to the bathing room spoke of disrepair.

 

The massive paned windows were clouded, and dust hung thick on almost every available surface. Aelin didn’t even want to  _ think  _ of what her feet looked like after walking barefoot on the floors.

 

When the water in the tub reached about halfway, and the muffled sound of Aedion’s voice faded completely, Aelin stripped off the oversized shirt and lowered herself into the steaming water with a groan of relief.

 

The water was so hot it almost burned- but all the stiffness in her upper back lessened with every second she was submerged. Also, the hot water felt like heaven on all the scars across her body. They had a nasty tendency to  _ ache  _ when exposed to the cold.

 

Reaching for the dusty bar of soap on the edge of the tub, Aelin lathered up her hands and reached up to run the suds through her hair. But where her fingers would normally find long strands of blonde-

 

Nothing. She reached up further, hoping that someone had had the good sense to tie up her hair while she’d been out. After all, Aelin’s head had been pounding far too much for her to really pay attention to anything regarding  _ hair. _

 

Her fingers felt thick as lead as she untied the hair tie.  _ There should be more than this _ , She thought in mute horror.  _ Much, much more. _ As the last loop in the band was pulled out, what was left of Aelin’s hair fanned out around her face. 

 

It had been cut choppily and without finesse, the layers and lengths uneven. The longest of the strands barely reached to her chin. And the shortest? It was almost shorn to her scalp towards the back of her neck

 

A numb sort of emptiness settled in Aelin’s stomach. Her hair had long since been a source of pride for her- a rebellion of sorts against Arobynn and all he taught.  _ You should cut it short, _ he’d sneered.  _ Long hair will just get in the way of an assassin. _ He’d never outright challenged Aelin on her choice to keep it long, but he’d definitely made life difficult for her about it. Logically, Aelin knew that Arobynn was nearly a world away, but somehow, it still felt like his victory.

 

_ It’s just hair. _ She forced herself to think, forced herself to reach up with her still soapy hands and lather it clean.  _ It will grow again. _

 

Even so, Aelin still felt like she’d lost a part of herself as she dunked her head underneath the water. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! I??? Love your comments so much? Without you guys this story would have probably been abandoned a long long time ago. So, uh, thank you! From both Aelin and me. :)

“I was going to tell you,” Aedion said as Aelin stalked out of the bathroom, steam swirling out behind her. His eyes widened. Using a dagger that had been slid underneath the door along with her clothes, Aelin had taken the opportunity to even out the absolute  _ disaster  _ that was her hair. It was a decidedly  _ unfeminine  _ hairstyle she now bore, but it would do for now. Her hair grew like a weed anyways. 

 

Aelin fingered the fringes of her hair and pursed her lips in Aedion’s direction. “I wasn’t about to meet a  _ Lord  _ looking like a haystack, Aedion. Whoever cut my hair did a  _ terrible _ job.” She made sure to curve her lips up in a smile, though, lest Aedion take it a bit too seriously.

Her cousin only shrugged, an embarrassed blush creeping up his cheeks. “It caught on fire- I didn’t really have much of a choice but to cut it.” He said finally, flipping his  _ own  _ gleaming locks over his shoulder.  _ Ah.  _ “And besides,” He added, looking over his shoulder at where Fenrys lay sprawled out on the floor. “It was either me that did it or  _ him.” _

 

Suddenly grateful, Aelin swallowed shakily. “I guess I owe you thanks, then.”

Aedion was cleaner that Aelin could ever remember seeing him. His golden hair was gleaming and neatly braided behind his back. Fenrys had apparently dug up a new outfit for him, too- The Wolf now wore a fine black coat lined with silver. An icy pattern flowed up from the lapels and over the shoulders. Though Aelin couldn’t see the back, she had no doubt it was equally elaborate. Some kind of crest was emblazoned over Aedion’s heart, though Aelin couldn’t place the family. Underneath the jacket was a fine, white shirt loosened to just past the collarbones. His beard was gone, too.

 

Aedion fidgeted a little, fingering at the waistline of his suspiciously fine looking pants. 

Aelin shook her head, her newly washed hair fanning around her head. “I needed a trim anyways,” She said dismissively, shoving her emotions back down into the deep pit they’d spawned from. “You look nice.” She nodded in Aedion’s direction. “I was starting to forget what you looked like underneath all those layers of grime.

 

And indeed, Aelin had almost forgotten what  _ she  _ looked like, without the second skin of dirt she’d been accumulating over the past few days. It was kind of a relief to see that even without hair tumbling over her shoulders, it was still the same face that looked out at her from the mirror. The same scars, the same callouses. Same old Aelin.

 

Same old Aelin had found new clothes right in front of the closed bathroom door, with her old shift nowhere in sight. How Fenrys had managed to smuggle the goods in an out of the room without Aelin noticing was a mystery in and of itself. How he’d managed to do it without  _ hands  _ was a whole different matter. 

 

The new outfit he’d left behind was gorgeous. It was something she would likely have bought for herself back in Rifthold, when she was still on Arobynn’s overly generous payroll. While Aedion was frosted in silver, Aelin was wreathed in gold. High necked and sleeveless, the tunic was something fit for a warrior. While the base fabric was black, the golden embroidery started from the bottom up, branches of ash leaves intertwining with each other. The leaves faded out around her mid-waist where a thick, leather belt sat. It had come with gloves, too. Grey with golden fittings. 

 

“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” Aedion commented, raising an eyebrow at his cousin. “Though if I remember, you’ve always had an eye for luxury.”

 

“Guilty as charged.” Aelin said with a laugh, throwing up her arms. Even as a child she’d been fond of pretty things.  _ I suppose that’s why I make such a good thief _ .  _ I can always spot the goods. _

“If you two are done jabbering,” Fenrys said, heaving himself up from where he’d been curled up on the tiled floor, “We have an appointment, and we’re  _ late. _ ” The white wolf shook himself, his nails clattering harshly. “If we delay any longer, Lorcan will come after us himself, and no one wants that.”

 

A shudder rippled down that snowy coat. “No one wants that.” Fenrys repeated darkly. An uncomfortable silence fell.

 

_ Who is this Lorcan? _ Aelin wondered, furrowing her brows.  _ Either he’s got Fenrys scared, or he hates him. Maybe both. He must be a real mence. _

 

“Shall we, then?” Fenrys asked, motioning down the hallway with his snout. “We won’t gain anything by standing still, now will we?” The white wolf wagged his tail slightly, but Aelin could tell that his heart wasn’t really in it.

 

Fenrys herded the cousins down the hall like a working dog herding sheep. Though he’d claimed they were ‘guests’, it was clear that there was still a thinly veiled veneer of caution underneath that disarming fluffy white coat.

 

Since Aelin had been completely knocked out for the duration of her stay so far, she took the opportunity to observe her surroundings. The castle- because what kind of regular house had  _ marble  _ flooring- was clearly in some state of disrepair. Cobwebs hung from every single corner, and a thick layer of dust covered any and all available surfaces.  _ Clouds  _ of it flew up with every footstep Fenrys took.

 

Aedion sneezed. 

 

There were massive windows twice Aelin’s height almost every two meters, but the streaming sunlight was blocked by thick blue curtains so dark they were almost black. Though they were lovely, they hadn’t been spared from the dust either. Their fringes were framed in cobwebby grey.

 

“What’s the point of having all this expensive stuff and just leaving it to rot?” Aelin wondered aloud, running her hands along the top of a dresser. Her hand came away covered in grime, and she grimaced. 

 

“No hands.” Fenrys replied, wiggling his front left paw for emphasis. “Believe me, I’m just as heartbroken as you are, I just can’t…  _ Do  _ anything about it.” And he actually did look heartbroken. His tail sagged, ears drooped, and somehow his fur even managed to look less lustrous. That could also just be the dust in the air, though. 

 

After what seemed like an eternity and a half of walking down the exact same hallway, a massive door seemingly materialized in front of them. Intricate spirals and swirls were carved into the black wood, and the patterns almost seemed to move if you looked to closely at them.

 

“ _ An evil witch lives behind these doors.”  _ Aelin leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to Aedion. The corners of her cousin’s lips twitched upwards.

 

Fenrys barked out a harsh laugh. “You’re not wrong,” He said merrily as Aelin paled.  _ Stupid supernatural hearing!  _ “But I’d definitely keep your opinions to yourself once we go through. Not everyone is as deaf as you  _ humans. _ ” The wolf winked, and with a final wag of his tail pressed his muzzle to the door.

 

“Fenrys requests entry.” He said, all amusement stripping from his voice. It was as if the wolf Aelin had spoken to had simply melted away, leaving something cold and detached in its wake.  

 

With a squealing groan, the door slid open. A veritable  _ thundercloud  _ of dust flew out, blinding both Aelin and Aedion.  __ As they looked inside, any semblance of amusement was stripped away. A somber hush fell as doors swung into stillness.

 

A massive room stretched in front of the cousins. In contrast to the silver and blue hallway, the marble of the throne room floor darkened to an inky black. Tall, stained windows stretched almost to the arched ceiling. Noble lords and ladies danced across the colored glass, their forms elegant and strong. Underneath their crowns, they had pointed ears.

 

_ This is a Fae castle. _ Aelin realized with a start, her feet carrying her forward even as her mind wandered.  _ It must be ancient.  _ Indeed, the architecture wasn’t one that Aelin could recall seeing anywhere before, and she’d infiltrated a  _ lot  _ of old castles before. A dirty, grey carpet stretched out ahead of the assassin and her cousin, leading to the base of a split staircase. Looking as if it had erupted from the ground itself, a throne of twisting, bone-white antlers took center stage at the top of the stairwell. It looked unsettlingly out of place amongst the elegantly carved pillars and glass. 

 

And lounging on the throne itself……..

 

Aelin had seen monsters before. Had seen men and women so completely ruthless that they didn’t qualify as human anymore. Had seen death closing in on her with his pitch black eyes. 

 

The creature that sat perched upon the antler throne? He was definitely haunting in appearance, but Aelin could tell that he was something much  _ much  _ worse than anything else she had ever come across.

 

From the tip of his hooked nose to the taloned points of his clawed feet, this feathered beast was………

 

_ An asshole. _ Aelin decided, watching as the thing shifted around uncomfortably upon the ivory throne.  _ A purebred, grade A asshole.  _ She didn’t even need to hear it speak. She just  _ knew. _

 

The colored light filtered in through the massive stained glass windows and illuminated the dust motes as they slowly danced in and out of sunbeams. The light caught in the eyes of the beast, and they glowed with green fire. “You made a mistake coming into these woods.” He- for the voice was unmistakably male- said. “There are nasty stories surrounding this place for a reason.”

 

Instantly Aelin was rubbed the wrong way. Maybe it was something about his voice, or maybe it was the underlying tone of  _ haughtiness. _ Aelin clenched her jaw. “We didn’t  _ choose  _ to come here.” She said, making an effort to be polite despite the irritation pulsing in her veins. They hadn’t tried to kill her, after all.  _ Yet.  _ “We were  _ chased.  _ If we’ve inconvenienced you, I apologize.” The last part was pushed out from between gritted teeth.

 

“Unfortunately for you, you’re here now, whether by choice or not.” The birdman said coldly, crossing his legs. A small but steadily growing part of Aelin hoped he stabbed himself on an antler. “And in accordance with the laws of this kingdom, I can’t let you leave.” Icy green eyes stared down at Aelin as her gut sank. From beside her, Aedion let out a low snarl.

 

“Like  _ hell  _ you can keep us here.” He hissed, clenching his fists. “We didn’t know anything about your stupid rules when that  _ mutt _ -” He pointed at Fenrys, and the wolf let out an offended yelp- “forced us to come here!”

 

Birdman tilted his head. “From what _I_ saw, you walked in on your own two feet, _demi-fae._ You were given a choice, and you picked my way. From the second your mortal feet touched the edges of my territory, you belonged to _me.”_ Clawed hands gripped the arms of the antler throne as the feathered man leaned forward, as if asking Aedion to challenge his claim. Anticipation practically _oozed_ out from underneath those grey feathers.

 

Though human raised, Aedion was  _ demi-fae _ , and he had been brought up accordingly. Aelin’s father had only thought it right that his nephew learn about his upbringing, and being the nosy bastard she was, Aelin had in turn learned a fair bit about fae culture as well. If what birdman had said was true, then Aedion was indeed bound by oath. And where the fae were concerned, breaking an oath was to forfeit your  _ honor. _ To a human-  _ no big deal _ . Another lie another day. To a fae though? A life without honor was akin to a living death. Or so the books had said, at least. 

 

Aedion seemed to take it seriously though- it seemed that that unspoken code of honor extended to the demi-fae as well. A muscle jumped in Aedion’s jaw, but he bowed his head in defeat just the same. A chill wind seemed to snake through the throne room as Aelin stared at her cousin in mute horror. 

 

Aedion- stupid, _honorable_ Aedion- lifted his head to look the creature atop the ivory throne directly in the eyes. “My cousin didn’t know about the agreement when she crossed.” He said quietly, something fierce burning in those turquoise eyes. _Don’t do what I think you’re about to do._ Aelin thought, her throat working silently. _Don’t be stupid Aedion!_

 

“Let her leave.” Aedion Ashryver’s knees hit the polished floor, and her cousin  _ kneeled  _ before that antlered throne for  _ her.  _ For  _ Aelin. _

 

And that stupid bastard on the throne had the nerve to look  _ unimpressed _ . 

 

By all rights, Aelin’s magic stores should have been depleted. Completely  _ drained. _ Even so, molten fire flowed through her veins as she watched Aedion’s head slowly bow. “Get back up,” she whispered, the ash in her throat reducing her voice to a quiet rasp. “Aedion  _ please  _ get back up.”

 

Aedion’s throat bobbed at the request, but his head stayed low. What he’d seen while Aelin was unconscious, she didn’t know. She hadn’t had the time to ask. It must have been awful though, because her cousin had assessed the building tension in the room, and had labelled Aelin as the lesser threat. The  _ lesser threat. _

 

Smoke curled out from between Aelin’s parted lips as she took a staggering step forwards, red building in the corners of her vision. From where he sat at the foot of the staircase, Fenrys had the sense to look unnerved. “Rowan…” He said quietly, glancing back between his master and Aelin. “ _ Rowan. _ ” He repeated with a tad bit more urgency as Aelin took another step.

 

The birdman-  _ Rowan-  _ held up a clawed hand. A spark had kindled to life in those cold green eyes. “Will you ruin your cousin’s pleading, then, human?” He asked, pushing himself up and out of the antlered throne. “Will you  _ fight _ me, mortal? With your puny flames and daggers?”  _ God  _ his voice was annoying. Aelin flexed her hands, warm bursts of air running up and down her arms. Distantly, she could smell the fabric of her tunic smoking. 

 

“I know your rules, fae.” She said, reigning herself in momentarily. The burning smell stopped, but the air around Aelin rippled with heat. “I know all about your code of honor and your  _ truths. _ ” The last word was sneered. “So I’ll play along. Let’s have a duel- you and me. Right here right now. Fair fighting, and all that, no death involved.”

 

Aedion’s head whipped up, his braid flying out behind him. “Don’t you  _ dare. _ ” He said, his voice shaky. “Aelin it’s not worth it, just let it go!” Something had shaken him up badly- badly enough that he feared for Aelin’s life. Not his own. Never his own.

 

“And just leave you here? After all the effort it took to find you again? No, Aedion.” Aelin said, her back towards the kneeling man. “Not this time- not  _ ever again _ . You’re not dispensable. Not to  _ me _ .” Flames licked up Aelin’s black gloves, the gold filigree glowing momentarily before fading into smoldering obscurity. 

 

His wings draping out behind him like some kind of ostentatious cape, Rowan descended the staircase. “You have my attention.” He said, ignoring Aedion completely. “Come now, then. Name your terms.” There was a smug undertone to his voice. He thought he was  _ humoring  _ her, Aelin realized. He expected her to  _ lose.  _ She bit down on the inside of her cheek.

 

She held up one finger. “If I win, we both walk. My cousin and I.” Another finger. “Two, if I win, you don’t get to harm us, restrain us or prevent our escape in any way shape or form.” Rowan raised an eyebrow, seemingly impressed despite himself. Aelin held up one more digit. “Three, win or lose- my cousin stays un _ harmed _ .”

Aedion started. “Absolutely  _ n- _ !”

 

“Agreed.” Rowan interrupted, cutting Aedion off with a wave of his hand. “And if I win?” His taloned feet were clicking impatiently on the dark marble floor. If Aelin didn’t know any better, she’d say he almost looked  _ excited. _

 

“We’ll do as you ask, as long as my  _ condition  _ is honored.” She was toeing dangerous ground, she knew, but Aelin was sick of simply running away from her problems. Facing them head on seemed so much easier, and she had energy to  _ burn.  _ Rowan nodded, accepting the terms. The shadows on the floor expanded into intricate patterns as Rowan pread and ruffled his massive wings behind them, allowing his pinions to trail on the ground like some kind of ostentatious cape as he descended the staircase. 

 

Though every fibre of his being visibly ached to intervene, some deep buried instinct in Aedion had him edging towards the edge of the throne room, pacing like a cornered wolf. He would respect the duel. The  _ actual  _ wolf in the room was visibly annoyed, Aelin noticed. Fenry’s furred ears were flat against his head and his upper lip was curled just enough to expose the gleaming length of his canines. Whether the irritation was or her or Fenry’s liege- Aelin didn’t know. He, too, retreated to the edges of the room.

 

As Rowan’s talons finally clicked on the final step of the stairs, Aelin steadied her feet against the gleaming floor. She was flying completely blind on this one- nothing in Aelin’s experience could have ever prepared her to fight……  _ Birdman _ . Even Arobynn would probably be at a loss for words. 

 

Aelin reached down to slide the dagger out from her boot, Rowan’s green eyes tracking her every movement. It was the only physical weapon she had at her disposal, unless she wanted to resort to good old fashioned slugging, though something told her that Rowan wouldn’t let her get close enough to try it. That was fine, though. Aelin had grown up with daggers. It was the first weapon Arobynn had trained her with, and he’d done a thorough job. 

 

She flipped the dagger up into her palm, the icy metal slick in her overheated hand. The heat from earlier was back now, but this time Aelin did nothing to push it down. 

 

Rowan suddenly flared his wings as he started to circle her, the massive appendages darkening the room with their sheer size. An icy wind bit through the throne room, wrapping aound Aelin’s legs as it passed through. Though the chill was enough to make her shiver, it stoked the embers smoldering in her chest, and sparks filled the air when she next took a breath.

 

The wings snapped shut again, and the breeze died down. For some reason, it left Aelin with a curious sense of longing. She tightened her grip on the dagger, narrowing her focus.  _ That’s probably his magic, _ Aelin theorized, watching as Rowan paced. A wicked smile danced on his pale lips.  _ Some kind of wind control. I have to be cautious until I find out his rang-! _

 

Before Aelin could even finish the thought, the air was driven out of her lungs with a mighty  _ oomph  _ and she fell to her knees. No matter how much she strained, her windpipe wouldn’t take in air. 

 

Aelin scrabbled at her throat, fiercely willing it to unclench even as her vision began to swim. “You’ve never been in a mage’s battle before, have you?” Rowan asked, his taloned feet coming into view at the very edge of Aelin’s darkening vision. False pity dripped syrupy sweet from his words. “Such a  _ shame.” _

 

_ “ _ Oh piss  _ off!”  _ Aelin wheezed. Speaking was a monumental waste of what little air she had left, but it was a worthy waste. Those polished talons came ever closer, and she looked up at Rowan’s impassive face as he cupped her face with a clawed hand. “And here I thought you would put up more of a fight,” he sneered, turning her face back and forth. “After all the snark you gave me…. You go down like this?  _ Pathetic.” _

 

Aelin’s sight was almost completely dark- only a pair of gleaming emerald eyes remained in focus.  _ It really is pathetic. _ She agreed, distantly aware of Aedion’s furious snarling.  _ I didn’t even get in a single strike.  _

 

_ Pathetic. _

 

The emerald eyes disappeared. 

 

_ Is that what you want to be?  _ The small voice in the back of Aelin’s head had returned.  _ Pathetic? Useless? _

 

No, she didn’t.

 

_ Then don’t be. _ The voice purred. A terrible blackness broiled behind the words.

 

Aelin opened her eyes, and staggered back to her feet, throat burning. Tears and snot ran down her face as her lungs worked uselessly, but she was up. Rowan had turned away from her- presumably on his way back towards Aedion and Fenrys.

 

_ His mistake. _ Aelin thought, and gave in to the encroaching darkness in her mind. 

 

A raging wildfire ripped itself out from the center of her chest, spreading itself out across the polished marble even without fuel to burn. Golden flames licked up towards the ceiling as the inferno raced towards the blurry figure of Rowan’s back.

 

Aelin had maybe only seconds left before she passed out completely- determination could only save her from asphyxiation for so long, but a few seconds was more than enough. In what seemed like slow motion, Aelin saw Rowan pause, and then start to turn.

 

“Bye bye,  _ birdie.”  _ Aelin hissed, willing the flames to burn hotter with the last of her strength. The black silhouette of a winged figure was briefly visible through the golden haze before it vanished entirely, the knot in Aelin’s windpipe disappearing along with it.

 

Higher and higher the flames climbed, licking up the walls as Aelin desperately gulped for air, the tear trails on her face drying instantly in the searing heat. The stained glass windows flashed gold and red as the light from Aelin’s fire reflected off of the delicately rendered portraits in them. Even though her vision still swam, Aelin tried her hardest to reel back the inferno she’d set loose. Aedion and Fenrys were still out there- and the goal hadn’t been to kill.

 

If anything, the flames spiralled higher. The energy to sustain the fire kept pouring out of Aelin’s body- it was like a dam that had suddenly burst; the flow wouldn’t stop until the contents within had completely drained. 

 

_ Oops. _ Aelin thought blankly as her legs started to tremble from the sheer force of magic that was blasting out around her. It had only just dawned on her that she should have probably figured out how to better control this power before she’d released it. The ground shook beneath her, and a sick feeling of dread took root in Aelin’s gut. Whether it came from her power or from something else-

 

A white blur manifested through the flames, and suddenly Fenrys was there, tugging at the fabric of Aelin’s gloves. “You have to stop!” He barked urgently, nipping at the skin of Aelin’s elbow.  _ I’d love to. _ Aelin thought, but what came out of her mouth was a strained sounding  _ hhhhhrrg. _ Apparently the lack of oxygen and heat had taken a toll on her vocal cords.

 

“ _ Please _ !” Fenrys insisted, his golden eyes pleading. Though the fire was lapping at his heels, the wolf showed no signs of discomfort. It didn’t seem to be Aelin’s power that he feared. 

 

“I  _ can’t _ !” She finally managed to cry, the rasp tearing itself free from her dry throat. “I don’t know how!” The rumble underneath her feet grew stronger, and somehow- despite all the fire- the room seemed to grow darker. 

 

With an odd combination between a whine and a snarl, Fenrys teeth sank into Aelin’s arm and yanked her backwards. With a pained cry, Aelin staggered back a few steps, the fire staggering with her.  Before she could question the ring of teeth marks in her arm, Fenrys was there, herding her further and further back into the room. “Just shut up and let me lead if you want to stay alive!” He hissed, jamming his snout up against Aelin’s stomach to better propel her. “Whatever happens, stay  _ quiet. _ ”

 

Behind his white glossy coat, Aelin saw her fires wink out one by one. They didn’t falter or flicker- they just vanished. It was almost as if the very air that sustained them-

 

The massive shadow of wings fell over the scene as Rowan descended from gods knew where, his control over the wind snuffing out Aelin’s fires more efficiently than any water. His feathers were singed, and smoke still trailed off of a few primaries, but he looked mostly unharmed. Unsettled and tired as she was, Aelin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment at his unruffled appearance. He could have at least  _ tried  _ to look inconvenienced.

 

Like some kind of avenging angel, Rowan alighted on the marble floor, wings outstretched. The faint light that was still trickling in through the windows lined his profile in warm gold. He shared a brief look with Fenrys before raising a hand in Aelin’s direction. She didn’t feel anything right away- but if she looked, there was a faint shimmer to the air directly in front of her.

 

Before she could react, Fenrys threw the outlying corner of one of the massive black curtains that lined the room over Aelin’s form. “Don’t make any noise.” He reminded her, shoving his nose underneath the curtain to get a better viewpoint from which to stare at her beseechingly. “No matter what happens, stay  _ quiet.  _ For both of our sakes. Rowan will see this through.”

 

_ That doesn’t sound very comforting,  _ Aelin thought, but nodded anyways. “Where’s Ae-?”

 

One final shudder rippled through the room, and Fenrys had vanished in a heartbeat, leaving only the faint clattering of his nails on the marble behind him. The opaque cocoon of blackness surrounding Aelin kept her from seeing anything, so she pressed her body to the chilled floor in hopes of being able to see at least a fraction of  _ something.  _ Hopefully she could get a look at where Aedion was.

 

Rowan’s taloned feet were nowhere to be seen, but way far away Aelin could see a faint white smudge that was probably Fenrys.  _ How far away did he drag me, anyways?  _ She leaned closer to the edge of the curtain, and found her nose pressed up against a shield of hard air. 

 

Before she could wonder too much about it, Aedion’s new leather boots came into view. Like Fenry’s shape, they were so distant as to nearly be out of sight, but Aelin strained herself for a better look anyways. There was no limp in her cousin’s walk, so it appeared that Rowan had honored the terms of the duel so far.  _ At least he’s good for his word. _

 

In the split second between one moment and the next, the room fell pitch black. A massive, swirling presence made itself known in the throne room, then, a presence that raised the hair on Aelin’s arms and made her want to run as far away as she possibly could. As quickly as the darkness had come, though, it left almost just as quickly. The presence stayed, however.

 

The faint scuff of bare feet on marble reached Aelin’s ears, and she pressed herself even further up against the shield in an attempt to figure out just  _ what  _ was causing the power-headache coursing through her temples. A long black dress swept past Aelin’s visions, bringing a chill that reached through even Rowan’s shield with it.

  
In a voice as empty and inflectionless as the darkness itself, the presence spoke with a feminine purr. “Such interesting guests you bring me, _Whitethorn_.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> merry crisis and a hoppy new years

 

Rowan had saved Aelin, Aedion knew. From the instant the black-spun woman had appeared in the throne room, Aedion had known it. It wasn’t that he doubted Aelin’s strength- he believed in her almost more than he believed in himself, actually- but Aedion knew how to weigh the odds. And he had. As strong and bright as his cousin was, Aedion had the feeling that the darkness leaking out from around this woman would swallow them both whole. 

 

Rowan shifted on the antlered throne. “I didn’t bring you  _ anything _ .” He said coldly, and if Aedion thought that he’d sounded frigid before, he was  _ glacial  _ now. “This stranger merely wandered into my territory, and I was informing him of his…..  _ Mistake.”  _ Those green eyes never left the woman, but Aedion got the feeling Rowan wasn’t speaking only to her.

 

_ He’s not mentioning Aelin _ . Aedion realized. For some reason of his own, the birdman was acting as if she didn’t even  _ exist.  _ What Rowan was planning, Aedion didn’t know. He had no  _ real  _ reason to protect either of them, so there was definitely an underlying scheme here somewhere.  _ But _ , Aedion thought, making a conscious effort not to look over at Aelin’s curtain,  _ if it keeps her safe I’m all for it. _

 

He tried to exchange a glance with Fenrys, but the wolf was doing a very convincing impression of a stone statue. He didn’t even seem to be  _ breathing.  _ Self consciously, Aedion loosened his hair enough to let it cover his ears. Somehow, he felt that his mixed heritage wouldn’t win him any brownie points here. 

 

The woman clicked her tongue. “Informing? How very  _ generous  _ of you, Rowan. I had never pegged you as the conscientious type.” She tapped a slim finger to her chin. “Could it be that after all these years you’re finally experiencing some growth?”

 

Rowan said nothing, his expression remaining stony.

 

She laughed, a deep throaty sound that send chills down Aedion’s spine. “Or maybe that’s me being optimistic.” Her form dissolved in to a thin black mist and disappeared, only to solidify to the right of Rowan’s throne. She ran a possessive hand down his feathery cheek, and Aedion could see the muscles in Rowan’s jaw twitch. “In all honesty, I don’t think you’re  _ capable _ of change.” Her blood red lips tilted up in a sad smile.

 

How Rowan didn’t simply deck her, Aedion didn’t know. It was clear that he wanted to- every fibre of his being was trembling, and his icy green eyes spoke  _ murder. _ He was powerful, that much was clear- to be able to withstand Aelin at full(?) blast was a feat in and of itself- but to keep him so easily in check, this woman must be a  _ monster  _ in her own right. Aedion kept his eyes trained on her every move.

 

“And as much as I’d love having you out of my hair,” The woman was playing with the coverlets on Rowan’s wings now, “I can’t say it’s not nice having someone to keep  _ my seat  _ warm.” She examined a feather, pursed her lips, and  _ yanked. _ The birdman gave a full body flinch, and something wicked twisted its way onto her red lips. A sore spot, then. She dropped the feather to the floor.

 

“It’s my pleasure,  _ Maeve _ .” Rowan gritted out from between his teeth, visibly trembling now. Though the words were polite, the tone was anything but.

Maeve (Aedion could have  _ sworn  _ he’d heard that name somewhere before) merely smiled and turned her attention away from the mass of shaking feathers. “Pardon my rudeness,” she crooned, and it took Aedion a frankly embarrassing second to realize she was addressing  _ him. _ “It seems that I’ve been ignoring our guest. Do introduce yourself, stranger, it will be a pleasure to know you.”

 

Fenrys did look over at him then, a quick, fierce glance.  _ Don’t say anything stupid! _ It seemed to say. Aedion tried to make his gulp subtle.

 

“My name is Aedion Claristelle (Aelin’s fabricated last name), hailing from Yarrin.” From the corner of his eyes, Aedion saw Fenrys incline his head slightly. The demi-fae male quickly got the hint, and lowered himself into a bow. “And the pleasure is all mine, Lady Maeve.”

 

“Lady Maeve!” The woman exclaimed, clapping her hands in glee. “Such  _ manners _ you have, boy!” She tilted her head towards Rowan with a mild smile. “You could stand to learn a thing or two from him, Whitethorn.” The birdman’s hands tightened on the throne, but he kept his silence. 

 

Aedion would kill to have composure like that.

 

In another swirl of darkness, Maeve vanished and reappeared, this time materializing by Aedion’s side. Though she barely came up to his collarbones, the aura she exuded made the demi-fae male feel  _ small.  _ She reached up to trace his cheek with a dark-tipped finger and Aedion did his best not to shudder.  “Where did you learn such courtly refinement, I wonder?” She asked, those dark eyes roving over Aedion’s face. She was beautiful in the same way as a doll- fragile, and wholly fake. Chills ran up and down his spine. “Certainly not in  _ Yarrin. _ The brutes there couldn’t tell apart the nobility from the common rabble even if they tried.” 

 

Sweat broke out on the warrior’s jaw, but he kept his expression even. Maeve eyed him curiously, watching the droplet slide down his face. “You may have  _ come  _ from Yarrin, but it wasn’t where you were born. Do share, please. I am  _ ever  _ so curious.” Though it was politely phrased, Maeve’s words were in no way a request. 

 

          “I come from across the sea.” Aedion said politely, doing his best to keep his nerves under tight lock. He’d do his best to truthfully dodge her questions.There was no telling how Maeve would react to Aedion having served under the man responsible for the near-extermination of magic users, being as magically gifted as she was. Frankly, Aedion would rather not bring it up at all.

 

Rowan still sat stonily on the throne, his eyes trained on every move Maeve made. It was a predators gaze he bore, and Aedion was certain that if he was able, he would have gone for her slender throat. 

 

“Across the sea..” Maeve mused. She was still being perfectly polite. “Forgive me for assuming, but you don’t look like you’re from either Eyllwe  _ or  _ the Red Desert. Adarlanian, then?” She cocked her head, dark strands of hair falling over her shoulders. A faint stinging rose in Aedion’s breast. Not because of what she said, but rather what she  _ hadn’t  _ said. “Born and bred, Lady Maeve.” He replied, bowing his head.

 

Fenry’s ears went flat the instant Aedion spoke.

 

Those dark, fathomless eyes narrowed, and Maeve’s nostrils flared slightly. “Liar.” She purred, her red lips stretching wide over perfect bone-white teeth.  “And you were doing so well, too.” 

 

Before Aedion had the chance to react, Maeve’s hands were on either side of his face, her nails digging into the skin on his cheeks. A deep-seated chill settled into Aedion’s bones as Maeve’s dark eyes bored into his turquoise ones. Every muscle screamed at him to  _ move _ , but his body simply wouldn’t obey. The blackness within Maeve’s eyes seemed to grow deeper and deeper, drawing Aedion in until all he could see was that murky dark.

 

Maeve was there in the blackness, her moon-white skin glowing eerily. “Everyone always tries to conceal things from me.” She said consolingly, watching Aedion from the corner of her eyes. “Sooner or later, they all give in.” Maeve stroked a tendril of blackness. “What are you hiding then, I wonder?”

 

Aedion said nothing.

 

Rhoe had warned him about truthseekers, very long ago. Those who could differentiate even the smallest of truths from a lie. Those who could walk minds. His warning had come so long ago, in fact, that Aedion had almost completely forgotten it. In a world without magic, what good would the knowledge do him? In Aedion’s memory, Rhoe’s face wavered. “A Truthseeker.” The apparition said. “Otherwise known as an-”

 

“ _ Elenchus _ .” Maeve said, cutting the memory short with a wave of her hand. “A very good guess, but no.” She had materialized by Aedion’s left shoulder, her head cocked. “I’m impressed that you thought of it, though. You must have had a  _ very  _ good teacher. His name was Rhoe, you said? I feel I’ve heard that name before.”

 

Maeve’s hands were at her side, but Aedion swore he could feel her nails raking across his brain, picking apart even the smallest of details. She wasn’t being gentle, each push felt like knives being driven through his skull.  “Not from Adarlan, no… But from  _ Terrasen _ .” Maeve breathed, her eyes widening. The searing pain winding its way through Aedion’s head paused- only for a moment, a fraction of a second- but it was enough for Aedion to take note.

 

A deep breath was the only warning Aedion got before Maeve launched herself back into her examination with a new kind of ruthlessness. No memory was overlooked, no detail too small. She seemed almost frantic, but Aedion hadn’t the presence of mind to notice. The searing pain behind his eyelids rendered him lost to the world.

Static played deep within the inky blackness surrounding Maeve and Aedion- images pulled up from the dredges of Aedion’s consiousness. A woman with laughing eyes and golden hair- she was smiling down at Aedion, at her son. 

 

The image warped. Golden hair splayed out against a pillow, the weak rise and fall of a pallid chest. The same smile, but tired. Beaten. Worn. Sweat beaded on Aedion’s brow. The next memory was that of a gravestone, and a weathered hand on a young Aedion’s shoulder; Rhoe. The void became grayish- devoid of life. 

 

“How dreary.” Maeve muttered, but there was a brightness on the horizon.

 

Aelin came into his life then, burning with purpose like a falling star. Her arrival brought  _ meaning  _ to Aedion’s life. Something to strive towards. “If you work really hard,” Someone who looked painfully like his mother said, “Maybe one day you’ll get to be her guard.” The woman was clever like that; it was hard for the boy to focus on his grieving with such a time consuming distraction. His memories brightened considerably. Maeve was intrigued; the flow of Aedion’s life paused, and she picked through scenes as if she was seeking a buried treasure. Her intense concentration awarded Aedion a few seconds to collect himself. With Maeve so intensely occupied, he could focus. 

 

It was obvious that Maeve was fascinated by Aelin. She watched with rapt attention every time the blonde toddler waddled across Aedion’s memories. It was an odd sort of concentration, Aedion thought, careful not to jostle the woman out of her trance. Expressions were warring across that porcelaine face. Intrigue, caution, disgust, and lastly, fear. A pale sheen washed over Maeve’s face as sparks danced between Aelin’s fingertips.

 

While Maeve watched, Aedion quietly set about putting himself in mental lockdown. He may have been wrong about the Elenchus theory, but Rhoe’s training and advice would probably still stand true for any kind of mindwalker. “ _ Keep your head clear.”  _ The words echoed. “ _ You can’t hide everything. Pick only what’s important! Nothing else. Too much will strain your concentration and your enemy will catch onto that.”  _

 

Both Rowan and Fenrys had taken steps to hide his cousin. Whatever their ulterior motives were, he didn’t care. At least not right now. Aedion wasn’t about to waste their hard work. He couldn’t hide his early memories, at least not without Maeve noticing. But recent ones? That he could do. Quietly, Aedion began tucking away bits and pieces of the last few weeks. Most of it he left- Yarrin, the guards, the bandits, even Lillian. All he removed was Aelin. 

 

Without wasting another second, Aedion sealed away the memories behind the tightest mental barrier he could muster. He had no idea how it would fare against Maeve, a trained mage, but it would hold. It had to. 

 

A dull ache began to build in Aedion’s temple, and flames flickered behind his eyelids. Maeve had refocused.  

 

Aelin faded. In front of him, Aedion watched a castle burn.

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

With a ragged gasp, Aedion was dragged back to reality. Sunlight streamed in through the massive stained glass windows, and the sudden light was harsh on his eyes. His hair hung lank around his shoulders, and sweat dripped down his face.

 

“How interesting.” Maeve said, removing her hands from the sides of his face. Her dark eyes opened.  “Truly  _ fascinating. _ ” The wide smile was back. “I had no idea that any of your line survived the Adarlanian King’s purge.” She took a step back, considering. “Every ruler needs their own lapdog, I suppose.” She said finally, a jab at Rowan, no doubt.

 

Aedion didn’t care. Didn’t have the  _ energy  _ to care. He had no idea how long he’d been trapped inside his own worst memories with Maeve. Days, weeks, an  _ eternity _ . They all seemed equally feasible. Time was dead and gone.

 

With the swish of silk on marble Maeve slid away from Aedion. He was no threat to her. 

 

Distantly, he heard her speak to Rowan. The words were disjointed and fuzzy. “Whe- r --- th-e -rest?”

 

Rowan’s low baritone answered. It was unintelligible jumble of noise to Aedion’s ears. Gods… He was so  _ dizzy _ .

 

The murmur of voices continued in the background. Something that sounded like Fenry’s joined in the conversation. Back and forth and back again. Maeve laughed. It was a wicked, cruel thing. A dust mote floated past Aedion’s vision. The beams of sunlight caught on it, and it gleamed like a drop of molten gold before it floated back into obscurity.

 

Maeve had flayed him open, and left him bare and aching. Every last detail, pored over. Every inconsistency. Every flaw. That dark-spun creature had known Aedion was hiding something. Could sense the  _ holes  _ in his story. She’d pounded away at that barrier until Aedion could barely remember his own name. He’d held firm, though. Somehow.

 

Since brute force hadn’t worked, Maeve had resorted to emotional trauma. She’d taken special interest in his mother, that nameless woman of gold. She’d made him watch her die. Over, and over.

 

Again.

 

And again.

 

Somehow, the repetition just made it hurt  _ more _ . 

 

She’d talked to him on her deathbed. Funny how Aedion had never noticed that before. Had never remembered. She’d called him her little  _ lion _ . Maeve found that humorous. She’d left him alone then. Had withdrawn, as if it was some sort of  _ victory.  _ Maybe it was.

 

“Such a pity.” Maeve said, her crooning voice up against Aedion’s pointed ears again. She’d moved closer while he wasn’t watching. “Rowan really was telling the truth. You  _ were  _ just passing through.”

 

Aedion stared blankly. What was she planning now? What kind of fresh horrors was she about to inflict? He flinched away from her hand as it reached forward. Maeve chuckled. “How could you have known? If you had, you would have surely stayed away.” Her fathomless eyes narrowed. “But I suppose it’s as the old saying goes; ‘The apple never falls far from the tree.’ Your  _ mother  _ made the same mistake, so it seems almost fitting that you followed in her footsteps.”

 

That caught Aedion’s attention. He blinked, slowly rousing himself as if from a deep slumber. “What?” He rasped.

 

“ _ What _ indeed.” Maeve agreed, that same placid smile on her face. “I’m as shocked as you are, believe me.” There was an undercurrent of iron in her words that belied her pleasant expression. “And unfortunate as this turn of events may be, it means that you’re  _ involved.” _

 

Aedion’s head began to spin. “Involved?” He tried to ask, but for some reason his mouth refused to form the right words. Colors melded and shifted, new hues and shades appeared at the corners of Aedion’s vision. Though the world began to warp and spin around him, Maeve’s pale face remained in perfect focus. “I truly am sorry about this.” She said, not sounding very sorry at all. 

 

Maeve vanished from Aedion’s darkening field of vision.

 

“You know what to do.” She said, and Aedion succumbed to the oncoming wave of darkness. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> happy belated birthday to this fic! We're at 95 pages in google docs and still going strong

The sudden appearance of Fenry’s large, padded feet startled Aelin into a sitting position. She’d been crouched over for so long now that her muscles screamed out in protest at the change. That damned curtain had obscured almost everything. She’d been staring at  _ feet  _ for the past thirty minutes or so.

 

“You’re all good.” He said softly, nosing behind the curtain. His golden eyes were warm. “She’s gone and Rowan’s dispelled the shield.”

 

Aelin gingerly unfolded herself into a crouch. Her back would never be the same again. “Is Aedion okay?” She groaned, rubbing her spine. “I couldn’t see what was going on. Is he alright?”

 

“Aedion is… Unhurt.” Fenrys said carefully. Aelin squinted at him. 

 

“But is he  _ okay _ ?” She asked again, reaching forward to grab his muzzle between her palms. It took both of her hands to wrap around that massive snout. Fenrys whined at the contact, but made no move to struggle. The tips of his teeth poked out from underneath his lips. “Is he okay?” She repeated. 

 

“He is unhurt.” Fenrys said again, stubbornly. His golden eyes slid to the side, avoiding Aelin’s gaze.

 

With a noise of disgust, she dropped his muzzle and pushed aside the curtain. 

 

The throne room looked the same as when Fenry’s had shoved her behind the curtain, just with less fire. The marble floors were back to gleaming perfection, and the faces in the stained glass looked as pompous as ever, if not more so. 

 

Rowan stood in the center of the room, looking down at something on the floor. His wings were draped across the floor, obscuring whatever was there from view. The large tufted ears rising above his head twitched as Aelin stepped out into the main hall, Fenrys skittering out behind her.

 

Aedion was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Where is my cousin?” Aelin demanded, striding towards the birdman, fists clenched. 

 

Rowan gave her an indecipherable look, and flickered his pinions. With a terrible slownless, he lifted his wings from the ground. A reedy sort of hiss filled the hall as his feathers slid across the marble.

 

A heap of golden fur was sprawled out on the floor, its chest rising and falling with the cadence of steady breathing.

 

“She thought it would be funny,” Rowan said dispassionately, staring at the limp figure at his feet. “To make him pay for something he wasn’t even a part of.” 

 

“A literal Wolf of the North.” Fenrys murmured, shoving his huge head underneath Aelin’s slack hands. His rumbling growl reverbreated up her arms and into her chest. “Oh Gods.” Aelin breathed. “You’re telling me  _ that’s  _ him?” She took a halting step forward.

 

“In the flesh.” Fenrys said grimly. 

 

Rowan lifted his wing to let Aelin pass. The tips of his primaries grazed across her head as she moved towards the wolf that was supposed to be Aedion. He was massive- easily as large as Fenrys. The fur along his body matched the exact shade of Aedion’s hair. 

 

“Gavriel’s going to be furious.” Rowan muttered, rubbing his temple with a taloned hand. “Absolutely inconsolable.” Fenrys agreed, watching Aelin reach out to tentatively stroke the unconscious wolf’s ruff. “Speaking of which, they’ll all be here soon. Maeve sent out a Summoning.”

 

Rowan groaned softly, his whole face vanishing into his scaly palms. “You don’t need to tell me what I already know.” He growled. “We need to figure something out. Something to tell them all.”

 

“I thought you had a  _ plan _ !” Fenrys barked, ruff rising. “That’s why you hid her, right? A plan? An idea?”

 

“The beginnings of an idea.” Rowan amended defensively, holding up a finger. “The very beginnings. It’s an idea we can’t tell Lorcan.”

 

“I can hear you, you know.” Aelin said, her eyes burning murder. She was kneeling next to Aedion, her hands fisted in his golden fur. “I don’t know what you’re planning, or how I factor into it- but Aedion and I? We want  _ none  _ of it!”

 

Rowan’s glare was weary, but with no less force behind it. “You don’t have a choice anymore.” He said firmly. Aelin’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Or at least Aedion doesn’t.” Fenrys said, butting into the conversation. He nudged Rowan with an unsubtle head, and the feathered male threw up his palms and turned away, muttering to himself under his breath. Aelin made a rude gesture at his retreating back.

 

“He can’t leave,” Fenrys repeated, nipping Aelin’s other hand to catch her attention. “Because he’s like us now.”

 

Her expression have been something else, because Fenrys’ sank to his haunches with a tired sigh. “I can’t tell you the why’s and the hows. If I could, I would. Believe me.” His golden eyes were sincere. “All I can do,” he said, motioning towards Aedion with his long snout. “Is tell you what happens next.”

 

Words were rising up behind Aelin’s lips, boiling over and begging to be said, but she swallowed them and nodded at Fenrys to continue. In the background, Rowan was still muttering.

 

“All Fae had an animal form.” Fenrys started off, his eyes never leaving Aelin’s face. “A second skin they could wear at their own choosing.” He said, motioning to the stained glass figures above. Intricate, detailed beasts leapt between the Fae figures. “But just knowing that won’t do you any good. I think it’s about time you learned about your cousin’s true heritage.”

 

“What could you tell me that I don’t already know?” Aelin asked derisively. “No offense, but we  _ grew up _ together. His mother was my  _ aunt. _ ” She crossed her arms, expression darkening. “I don’t really see what it is that you guys could bring to the table here.”

 

“Listen and learn, I guess.” The white wolf said, expression unreadable as he tilted back his head towards the lord of the castle. “Rowan, what was it, twenty years ago? More?” Rowan shook his head and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Twenty something, then,” Fenrys picked up again. “We had a visitor. A lone woman, travelling in search of something. What she hunted for, she never said.”

 

“She stayed for almost a year. Lucky for us, and  _ her _ , that was a year when Maeve didn’t visit. She was kind, that woman, and impossible to hate. After she left to continue her search, she was sorely missed. More so by some than others.” Fenry’s golden eyes grew thoughtful. “Knowing what I know now, I can only assume she went back to Terrasen.” 

 

“And had Aedion.” Aelin finished. The white wolf nodded. “And had Aedion.” He confirmed. “And none of us were any the wiser.”

 

“That would explain a  _ lot  _ of things.” Aelin said, staring down at the motionless golden wolf at her feet. “But.. uh.”

 

Fenrys inclined his head in her direction. “But?”

 

“You’re all  _ animals _ .”

 

“Very observant of you.” Fenrys said, lowering his head to gnaw at something stuck between his toes. He seemed disinclined to answer further. 

 

“You’re so  _ helpful.”  _ Aelin frowned at him. Something in Fenry’s expression clicked in her brain just then; “So just because Aedion’s demi-fae, he has an animal form too?” 

 

“Glad to know you were listening earlier.” The wolf said, and then shrugged. “It’s either that or because he had something close enough for Maeve to work with. You both have Fae blood in your family tree somewhere, yes? Then that’s what it is. She is powerful, but not powerful enough to create something out of thin air. There has to be a  _ base  _ to start off of.”

 

“A base,  _ huh _ ,” The assassin leaned forwards, squinting at the white wolf. Fenrys bowed away a little bit underneath the scrutiny. “It wasn’t  _ you _ , was it?” She asked. The canine let out a strangled yelp, and almost choked on his own tongue. “ABSol _ uTEly not _ !” He said, sounding as offended as he could possibly could. “Just because we both happened to end up as wolves does not a family make!”

 

Unconvinced, Aelin leaned in closer. “If it’s not you, who is it then?” She didn’t bother asking Rowan. No doubt he’d be doubly as unhelpful. Fenrys eyes slid slightly to the side. “We have an  _ idea _ .” He said evasively. “A  _ hunch _ , if you will.”

 

“If you’re going to tell her, tell her now.” Rowan broke in, striding towards them. Aelin bristled at his approach. Though his words were directed to Fenrys, his attention was on the massive doors at the end of the room. Aelin may as well not have existed to him. “Because she’s going to find out for herself very shortly.”

 

Fenrys scowled, and rose to his paws. Still on her knees, Aelin suddenly found herself dwarfed by the massive canine. It was unsettling, to say the least. She gripped Aedion’s fur tightly. He padded over towards Rowan, his ears flicking restlessly. “They must have all been pretty close by, then.” He said. 

 

Rowan snorted. “None of them are stupid enough to disregard a Summoning. For all they know, she’s still here.” Poison dripped off of his words, and an ugly sneer curled his lips. It seemed like he truly did detest Maeve.  _ At least we have  _ that  _ in common. _ Aelin thought sourly. She’d gripped her dagger in her free hand again. 

 

“Do we have a plan?” Fenrys asked again, squaring his feet. He’d positioned himself between the door and Aelin, glancing between his self-appointed charge and his lord. Rowan had followed, one of his taloned hands resting on Fenry’s upraised hackles. “The beginnings of one.” Rowan said, echoing his earlier words. “It all depends on how everyone reacts.”

 

Suddenly, he was in front of Aelin, glaring at her from down his nose. “It also depends on you being  _ quiet. _ ” He said. “You and your cousin’s best hope at escape is cooperating with us.” 

  
  


Aelin surged to her feet, dagger poised.”I’ve had just about enough of people telling me what I can and can’t do.” She snarled, matching Rowan glare for glare. “We didn’t even want to  _ be _ here in the first place! None of  _ this- _ ” She gestured wildly with her hands. “Would have happened if you’d just left well enough alone! Now you’re telling me to just… Shut up and go along with whatever stupid plan you’ve got?!”

 

“You just have to trust me when I say that you’ll be no safer beyond my borders.” Rowan said coldly. There was weight behind those words, Aelin knew. “My word is my bond. Fenry’s and Connall’s offer to your cousin will be honored and fulfilled, provided you cooperate.  _ Willingly _ .” He pushed away the tip of the dagger from his throat with a talon.

 

“You guarantee our safety?” Aelin pushed the dagger back. 

 

“On my honor.” Rowan said, and met her gaze. For the first time that day, Aelin didn’t see any hostility lurking in those green depths. “Fine.” Aelin groused, and tucked her dagger back into her boot. “But if you make any funny moves, I’ll skewer you.”

 

Fenrys made a muffled kind of coughing noise. It sounded doubtful, if a cough could convey that kind of thing. Aelin would have glared at him, if Rowan’s massive torso hadn’t been in the way. Aelin settled for glowering at Rowan instead. It seemed like a safe replacement. The bird man seemed not to notice. His gaze was pinned again on the wooden doors.

 

Aelin’s sensitive mortal ears had begun picking up noise from beyond the threshold. 

 

“Brace yourselves.” Fenrys muttered, his lips curling slightly in distaste. The sound of unshod hooves made itselves known above the oncoming racket. The white wolf sent one last beseeching look towards Rowan. “I hope this plan of yours is worth it.” He said. 

 

Rowan stepped out and away from Aelin, and fanned out his wings. “It will be.” He said in a tone that brooked no argument. From between Rowan’s feathers, Aelin could just see the doors begin to creak open. An unintelligible tangle of fur and feathers flowed in through the door, filling the formerly silent hall with their racket. 

 

The most striking of the bunch was the massive black warhorse that surged through first. His red rimmed eyes rolled wildly as he danced in place, and his flanks heaved with exertion and a thin sheen of sweat coated his glossy coat. He’d run hard and fast to get here. Aelin knew a thing or two about horses- had stolen enough of them to know- and this was an animal worthy of an emperor. Not that he acted it, though. Between his wildly flashing hooves and the constant dipping and plunging, the horse looked like an absolute terror. 

 

Next through the door was a wolf that looked to be almost twin to Fenrys. The only noticeable difference was their coats. Where Fenrys was white as snow, this one looked to be dark as night. Both wolves seemed pleased to see each other- tails were wagging on both sides.

 

The last to come in was a tawny golden mountain cat. He slunk between the doors on silent feet with the kind of prenatural grace possessed only by the wildest of predators. 

 

Aelin had seen a mountain lion once, when she was very little. Her father had brought her along to oversee some local disputes- livestock disappearing and such. She’d caught a glimpse of the culprit one night, a golden phantom that slunk through the shadows. Even to this day she was still unsure if it had been real or just a phantom of her imagination.

 

          The first to speak was the horse. Given Fenrys’ whole situation, Aelin shouldn’t have found it to be that much of a shock. Still- a deep, gravelly voice coming from an equine mouth was enough to rattle even her bones. She chalked it up to it being an already awful day.

 

          “Where is  _ Maeve _ ?” The stallion trumpeted, his hooves clattering harshly against the marble flooring. “We’ve answered her Summons. Where is she?!”

 

          “Not here, dimwit.” Fenrys snarled, his hackles fully up. And joy he’d gotten from seeing his fellow wolf had obviously dissipated the moment the horse had opened its mouth. “Besides, even of she  _ was  _ I’m sure she’d have nothing to say to  _ you. _ ” The words tapered off into a distasteful sneer. The ears on top of that proud black head flattened immediately. “Don’t confuse me with  _ yourself. _ Do I need to remind you just where you stand in our little pecking order?” The stallion rumbled, sparks flying from where his hooves struck.

 

“You’re welcome to try.” Fenrys snarled in reply, squaring his shoulders. Though still on the sidelines, the black wolf straightened as well. 

 

“Shut up both of you.” Rowan said. He didn’t move from his position in front of Aelin, but the two beasts backed down immediately. Teeth were still snapping aggressively, but the threat of immediate conflict seemed to be past. “Maeve left shortly after sending out the Summons, and will not be returning any time soon.” All seemed to relax, save for the black stallion.

 

“Then why even bother?” The black wolf asked, making his way over to Fenrys.   His anger seemingly forgotten, Fenrys crossed the rest of the distance in an excited bound. Rowan watched patiently as the two canines exchanged a few cursory sniffs, and then settled into companiable tandem, tails wagging. 

 

Something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle rumbled out of Rowan’s chest. It was barely audible, but Aelin was close enough to hear it. He cleared his throat. “Your Summoning was not an accident- there’s a reason behind it. An important one.”

 

Three pairs of eyes latched onto Rowan. “Well get on with it.” The horse snorted, his tail swishing impatiently.

 

From behind Rowan’s back, Aelin couldn’t see his face, but she could  _ feel  _ his glare. “You were called here today to welcome a new member into our ranks.” Rowan said, his tone tapering off once again into frigidity. No one seemed to be breathing. “And to remember just  _ who  _ we belong to.”

 

Sensing where this was going, Aelin scooted backwards as quietly as she could. Rowan had promised her their safety. He’d promised on his  _ honor _ , and Aelin trusted that. He would keep his word. Fenrys and the Connall that Rowan mentioned would as well. The other two? 

 

Aelin didn’t trust them as far as she could spit. She’d received no guarantee from  _ them. _ So when Rowan swept his wings to the side to reveal both her and Aedion’s prone body, it was with an upraised dagger and a ready stance that Aelin greeted them. 

 


End file.
